ESSAYS 

MARY  ELIZA  GULLY  COLE 


GEORGE  HOLMES  HOWISON 


ESSAYS 


3     D    5  J      i     J 


VITTORIA  COLONNA. 


f^>^'^><$^y$^^^$><^><$^$^<$><$><^^ 


Copyright,  iQOp, 

By 

Mary  Eliza  Gully  Cole. 


•  •  *  • 

•  •  •  • 

•  •  •  •• 


•  •••••;«••     ••     I*.       « 

•    •••   ••  ••»•    « •»• 


Dedicated 

to 
MY  SONS 


861103 


CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

The  Social  Life  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance       .....  9 
Vittoria  Colonna ....  29 

Savanarola 5^ 

Shelley         .....  yi 

Thought,  The  Parent  of  Originality  95 

Prayer 109 

Nineteenth  Century  Conception  of 

Humanity         .         .         .         .  121 
An    Interpretation    of    Emerson's 

''Sphinx"          .         .         .         .  147 
Woman's  Work  in  the  Nineteenth 

Century 167 

Threnody 193 

Impractihility       ....  205 

Questioning         .         .        .        .  211 


Acknowledgment  is  made  to  The 
Open  Court  and  to  The  Unitarian, 
in  which  magazines  some  of  these 
essays  have  previously  appeared. 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE   OF  THE  ITALIAN 
RENAISSANCE 


ESSAYS 

THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  ITALIAN 
RENAISSANCE. 

A  GREAT  period,  like  a  great  indi- 
vidual, lives  in  the  heart  of  man- 
kind, creating  vivid  pictures 
around  which  the  imagination  loves  to 
linger.  Thus  the  period  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance  will  ever  remain  a  shining 
mark  holding  us  captive  by  its  brilliant 
achievements  in  art  and  literature,  its  fas- 
cinating personalities,  its  monuments  in 
stone,  and  marble,  its  materialization  of 
beauty  and  harmony  in  unfading  colors 
on  canvas  and  wall,  its  undying  truths 
written  in  the  lives  and  deaths  of  saints 
and  scholars,  and  an  ethereal  atmosphere 
of  fine  poetic  sentiment  which  wraps  the 
name  of  Italy  in  a  mantle  of  hazy  beauty ! 
If  we  can  pierce  through  this  shimmering 
mantle,  which  dazzles  our  eyes,  and  dis- 
cern wherein  the  world-spirit  breathed 
upon  this  sunny  land,  bringing  forth  some 

9 


ESSAYS 

//',pf/5ts: rarest  fiov/ers,  to  draw  the  human 
family  upward  and  onward  to  that  goal 
of  perfection  towards  which  all  life  tends, 
a  dignity,  grandeur  and  vitality  will  be 
added  to  our  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion of  this  great  epoch,  and  will  enable  us 
to  see  more  clearly  the  historic  trend  of 
events.  We  shall  see  that  this  birth  or 
re-birth,  with  its  far-reaching,  brilliant 
results,  was  followed  by  death  or  trans- 
formation, which  was  only  another  step, 
another  birth  into  something  higher  and 
better  which  the  future  will  realize  and 
whose  birth-throes  we  are  feeling  to-day. 
For  "every  art  ends  in  a  science,  and  all 
poetry  in  a  philosophy,  for  science  and 
philosophy  do  but  translate  into  precise 
formula  the  original  conceptions,  which 
art  and  poetry  render  sensible  by  im- 
aginary figures."  A  mine  of  wisdom 
may  be  gathered  by  a  comprehensive 
glance  at  any  world-historic  epoch,  and 
for  this  reason  is  ever  worthy  of  our  care- 
ful study. 

In  looking  over  the  higher  forms  of  so- 
cial life,  during  the  period  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance,  the  first  important  element 

lO 


ESSAYS 

we  discover  is  the  almost  entire  eradica- 
tion of  the  idea  of  Caste.  Social  life  was 
based  upon  the  existence  of  an  educated 
and  cultured  class.  There  were  a  few 
exceptions  to  this  rule,  but  the  whole  cur- 
rent of  the  time  was  set  steadily  towards 
the  fusion  of  classes.  The  reasons  for 
this  were:  First,  the  study  of  antiquity; 
second,  the  immense  power  the  Condot- 
tirie  acquired ;  third,  the  intensely  marked 
individuality  men  attained;  fourth,  the 
widespread  influence  of  humanism;  fifth, 
a  reaction  from  ecclesiastical  rule  and  au- 
thority and  a  partial  return  to  the  free- 
dom of  paganism.  Each  one  of  these  in- 
fluences was  a  strong,  clear  and  distinct 
movement  in  itself,  and  volumes  might  be 
and  have  been  devoted  to  each;  they  are 
circles  within  circles. 

Personal  achievement,  nobility  and 
valor  were  the  watchwords  of  this  civili- 
zation. Dante,  to  give  this  idea  emphasis, 
calls  "Nobihty  the  sister  of  philosophy.'' 
While  Dante  does  not  belong  in  any  strict 
sense  to  the  revival  of  learning,  yet  "to 
him  in  a  truer  sense  than  to  any  other 
poet  belong  the  double  glory  of  immorta- 

II 


ESSAYS 

lizing  in  verse  the  centuries  behind  him, 
while  he  inaugurated  the  new  age." 

Naples  offers  an  exception  to  the  rest 
of  Italy  in  this  grand  progressive  move- 
ment. In  1442  the  last  King  of  the  An- 
jou  dynasty  was  conquered  by  Alfonso  of 
Aragon,  and  under  the  Aragonese  and 
Spanish  Kings  it  was  ruled  by  Viceroys 
until  the  peace  of  Utrecht,  when  it  was 
annexed  to  the  possessions  of  the  house  of 
Hapsburg.  "Her  pride,  vanity  and  strict 
isolation  more  than  any  other  cause  ex- 
cluded her  from  the  spiritual  movement 
of  the  Renaissance,  and  the  establishment 
of  the  Aragonese  government  completed 
the  work  and  brought  about  those  social 
changes,  obedience  to  French  and  Spanish 
ideas  which  only  followed  in  the  rest  of 
Italy  a  hundred  years  later."  The  prin- 
cipal features  of  this  disastrous  transfor- 
mation were  a  contempt  for  work  and  a 
passion  for  titles.  It  is  a  curious  fact 
that  this  indolence  and  this  passion  for 
titles  still  exist  in  Naples,  and  a  Principi 
(or  Prince)  may  be  found  loitering  on 
every  street  corner,  possessing  neither  a 
virtue  nor  a  ducat.     Out  of  this  desire 

12 


ESSAYS 

for  titles  and  love  of  display  grew  the 
fondness  for  the  tournament.  In  the 
middles  ages,  knighthood  stood  for  all 
that  was  brave  and  noble,  and  we  owe 
much  to  it.  The  good  that  was  in  it  has 
survived,  and  the  obligations  of  the  world 
to  it  as  an  ameliorating  and  civilizing 
agent  are  very  great.  This  spirit  has  been 
preserved  to  us  by  the  poets,  Spenser  and 
Ariosto.  But  knighthood  was  never  of 
any  great  importance  in  Italy;  first,  be- 
cause of  the  rise  of  the  Italian  Republic; 
second,  the  development  of  the  commer- 
cial spirit  and  the  introduction  of  the  Con- 
dottirie  were  all  circumstances  unfavor- 
able to  the  growth  of  this  idea.  Poggio 
and  Sacchetti  exhausted  their  irony  upon 
the  tournament,  and  left  us  ludicrous  pic- 
tures of  forlorn  knights  riding  still  more 
forlorn  horses,  and  suggested  conferring 
the  honor  of  knighthood  upon  the  lower 
animals  and  inanimate  objects,  and  Cer- 
vantes a  century  and  half  later  gave  the 
final  blow  to  knight-errantry  and  its  false 
pretences  in  his  inimitable  Don  Quixote. 
Personal  skill,  dexterity  and  fine  phys- 
ical strength  were  cultivated  to  the  ut- 

13 


ESSAYS 

most,  and  a  graceful  and  dextrous  "tilting 
with  the  lance"  was  a  fashionable  pas- 
time. Csesar  Borgia  delighted  to  exhibit 
his  marksmanship  by  shooting  condemned 
criminals  in  the  yard  of  the  Vatican,  and 
could  fell  an  ox  with  one  blow.  Albert! 
could  ''pierce  the  strongest  armor  with  his 
arrows  and  so  deftly  fling  a  coin  that  it 
touched  the  highest  point  of  a  church  or 
palace  roof.'^ 

Wealth  was  considered  as  one  of  the 
elements  of  refined  life,  but  only  because 
it  gave  its  possessor  leisure  for  cosmopol- 
itan culture,  which  was  the  highest  ideal 
of  that  period. 

The  dress  of  a  nation,  as  of  an  indi- 
vidual, gives  indication  of  its  general  cul- 
ture; earnest  and  deliberate  study  entered 
into  every  department  of  life,  and  the  Ital- 
ians pursued  the  idea  of  dress  with  per- 
sistent and  artistic  purpose.  But  the  idea 
of  dress  was  not  confined  to  women ;  even 
serious  men  considered  it  an  important 
element  in  the  perfection  of  the  individ- 
ual. 

The  people  were  as  a  nation  vain  and 
fond  of  display,  and  as  birth  gave  little 

14 


ESSAYS 

distinction,  each  individual  cultivated  all 
personal  qualities,  grace  and  affluence  of 
speech,  dignified  and  courtly  behavior, 
perfect  physical  strength  and  beauty,  ar- 
tistic dressing  and  great  learning. 

One  of  the  marked  peculiarities  in  re- 
gard to  personal  adornment  was  the  de- 
sire to  form  a  conventional  type,  disguise 
nature  by  every  conceivable  device.  The 
reasons  for  this  were  the  effort  made  for 
perfect  youthful  beauty  and  the  represen- 
tation of  the  mysteries,  when  masks  and 
many  other  artificial  conditions  were  al- 
lowable to  produce  dazzling  and  brilliant 
effects. 

"Blonding"  the  hair  is  no  modern  in- 
vention, for  this  was  the  much  desired 
color,  and  silver  and  gold-colored  thread 
was  often  used  to  decorate  the  heads  of 
matron  and  maid.  This  passion  for  ar- 
tificial adornment,  though  ridiculed  by 
poets  and  philosophers,  and  held  up  to 
scorn  by  preachers,  ruled  the  fancy  of 
woman  with  the  true  tyranny  of  fashion, 
excepting  now  and  then,  when  appealed 
to  by  some  inspired  fanatic,  like  Savana- 
rola,  who,  possessing  the  key  to  woman's 

15 


ESSAYS 

nature,  touched  her  conscience;  then  she 
humbly  cast  her  vanities  upon  the  funerdi 
pyre  erected  in  the  pubhc  square. 

Italy  had  all  Europe  for  a  school  of 
manners,  and  the  Renaissance  produced 
her  Lord  Chesterfield  in  one  named 
Giavano  Delia  Casa,  a  Florentine,  who 
wrote  a  book,  giving  in  a  delicate  and 
minute  way  details  for  good  behavior, 
^'prescribed  with  the  same  tact  with  which 
a  moralist  discerns  the  highest  ethical 
truths."  One  enthusiastic  writer  says  of 
Cosimo  de  Medici,  "That  to  see  him  at 
table,  a  perfect  model  of  the  man  of  old, 
was  of  a  truth  a  charming  sight." 

Fine  tact  was  cultivated  as  a  universal 
social  duty,  and  was  not,  as  we  are  often 
led  to  believe  from  its  extreme  rarity,  an 
especial  gift  of  the  Gods.  Lorenzo  the 
Magnificent,  by  some  historians  called  the 
"father  of  literature,"  was  supreme  over 
his  circle  by  his  wonderful  and  exquisite 
tact;  he  entertained  all  men  with  equal 
grace;  his  large  erudition  enabled  him  to 
converse  with  the  theologian  of  theology, 
with  the  scholar  of  letters,  with  the  mu- 
sician of  music,  with  the  artist  of  art,  and 

i6 


ESSAYS 

the  scientist  of  science.  His  almost  un- 
bounded knowledge  gave  him  a  power 
over  his  contemporaries  which  few  men 
ever  possessed. 

Nothing  was  neglected  in  this  egoistic 
age  which  would  add  to  the  elegance  or 
comfort  of  human  existence,  and  even  in 
domestic  life  we  find  a  thorough  system 
of  training  throughout  the  household; 
there  was  organization,  discipline  and 
education. 

While  other  nations  were  walking  or 
riding  horseback,  the  Italians  were  dri- 
ving over  well-paved  streets  in  fine  car- 
riages, and  enjoying  the  luxuries  of  costly 
carpets,  fine  furniture,  abundance  of  ex- 
quisite linen,  splendid  tapestries,  magnifi- 
cent china  and  dresses  and  ornaments  of 
oriental  beauty  and  splendor. 

Music  was  an  important  element  in  so- 
cial life,  and  under  the  genius  and  direc- 
tion of  Palestrina  underwent  important 
modification.  Before  Palestrina's  time 
secular  tunes  formed  the  principal  theme 
of  all  masses  and  psalms. 

Language,  whether  written  or  spoken, 
was  held  to  be  an  object  of  respect  and  the 

17 


ESSAYS 

crowning  glory  of  a  dignified  and  noble 
behavior.  The  Italians  anticipated  by 
three  centuries  the  French  Salon,  for  in 
the  social  circle  all  subjects  were  fully  and 
freely  discussed,  and  the  loftiest  problems 
of  human  life  were  included  in  their  con- 
versation. ''The  production  of  noble 
thoughts  was  not,  as  was  commonly  the 
case  in  the  North,  a  work  of  solitude,  but 
of  society.'* 

Dante  raised  the  Italian  language  from 
comparative  rudeness  to  the  highest  re- 
finement, and  it  was  he  who  wrote  the  first 
complete  treatise  on  any  modern  lan- 
guage. There  were  nurherous  dialects  in 
Italy  at  this  time.  Dante's  classification 
gives  fourteen  (14),  another  writer  gives 
seventeen  (17).  One  of  the  most  vigor- 
ous and  important  efforts  of  the  Renais- 
sance was  made  for  one  classical  lan- 
guage. "Language  is  here  conceived 
apart  from  its  uses  in  poetry,  its  highest 
function  being  clear,  simple,  intelligent 
utterance  in  short  speeches,  epigrams  and 
answers.  This  faculty  was  admired  as 
among  no  other  nation,  excepting  the 
Greeks  and  Romans." 

18 


ESSAYS 

Women,  no  less  than  men,  strove  for  a 
"complete  individuality,"  and  Michael 
Angelo  and  Aritino  were  no  more  a  pro- 
duct of  the  peculiar  atmosphere  of  the 
times  than  Vittoria  Colonna  or  Ranata  of 
Ferara.  Women  were  the  queens  and 
centers  of  the  social  circles,  and  became 
illustrious  without  in  any  way  compro- 
mising their  reputations.  The  reasons 
for  this  were  that  women  strove  for 
beauty  and  strength  of  character  as  well 
as  physical  perfection,  and  because  "she 
was  conscious  of  a  state  full  of  danger 
and  opportunity."  Intellectuality  and 
high  sentiment  held  a  large  place  in  wom- 
en's lives,  where  usually  sentimentality 
and  emotion  reign  supreme. 

By  a  careful  study  of  the  manner  in 
which  a  nation  finds  its  amusements  and 
recreations,  a  very  just  estimate  may  be 
formed  of  its  civilization,  for  these  will 
bear  unmistakable  impress  of  the  thoughts 
and  aims  of  the  period.  There  has  been 
no  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  when 
so  much  talent,  invention  and  such  fabu- 
lous sums  of  money  were  employed  for 
the  purpose  of  pleasure  and  amusement. 

19 


ESSAYS 

Such  was  the  magnificence  of  these  dis- 
plays that  ''whole  volumes  might  be  writ- 
ten on  the  architecture  alone."  Leonardi 
da  Vinci  did  not  disdain  to  use  his  divine 
gifts  to  invent  machinery  and  personally 
to  direct  the  costumes  and  decorations  for 
many  of  these  festivals,  and  Andrea  Del 
Sarto  painted  chariots  used  in  the  proces- 
sions. The  middle  ages  were  essentially 
ages  of  Allegory,  but  the  particular  form 
of  these  festivals  and  processions  may  be 
traced  directly  to  the  Romans.  The  con- 
ditions necessary  to  make  these  displays 
successful  and  national  were  wealth,  lei- 
sure and  education  among  the  nobility 
and  appreciation  and  understanding  on 
the  part  of  the  masses.  It  is  a  striking 
proof  of  the  universal  culture  of  the  Ital- 
ians that  they  did  so  understand  the  won- 
derful Allegory,  the  antique  representa- 
tions and  the  classic  allusions.  It  was 
considered  a  part  of  an  aristocratic  breed- 
ing to  be  critical  in  such  matters,  and  the 
masses  were  familiar  with  at  least  the 
poetic  basis  of  these  shows. 

"Both  plastic  art  and  poetry  were  ac- 
customed to  represent   famous  men  and 

20 


ESSAYS 

women;  for  instance,  the  Divine  Comedy 
of  Dante,  the  Trionfi  of  Petrarch,  the 
Amorosa  Vissione  of  Boccaccio,  all  of 
these  works  constructed  on  this  principle 
and  the  great  diffusion  of  culture  which 
took  place  under  the  influence  of  anti- 
quity, made  the  nation  familiar  with  the 
historic  element."  In  Florence  the  sev- 
eral quarters  of  the  city  were  in  early 
times  organized  with  a  view  to  such  ex- 
hibitions. 

In  1304,  "Hell  was  represented  by 
Scaffolda  and  boats  in  the  river  Arno.  By 
mechanical  appliances  figures  of  angels 
were  made  to  rise  and  float  in  the  air. 
The  festival  which  called  for  exceptional 
treatment  was  the  Feast  of  Corpus 
Christi.  At  this  were  represented  a  suf- 
fering Christ  amid  singing  cherubs,  the 
Last  Supper  with  a  figure  of  Thomas 
Aquinas,  the  combat  between  the  arch- 
angel Michael  and  the  devil,  fountains  of 
wine  and  orchestras  of  angels,  the  scenes 
of  the  Resurrection,  and  finally  on  the 
Square,  before  the  Cathedral,  the  tomb 
of  the  Virgin.  It  opened  after  High 
Mass  and  the  benediction,  and  the  Mother 

21 


ESSAYS 

of  God  ascended  singing  to  Paradise, 
where  she  was  crowned  by  her  Son  and 
let  into  the  presence  of  the  Eternal."  The 
house  of  Borgia  particularly  distin- 
guished itself  by  magnificent  displays  of 
this  character,  as  also  the  Court  of  Fer- 
>^ara,  but  owing  doubtless  to  the  introduc- 
tion of  Calvinistic  ideas,  which  found 
much  favor  and  sympathy  there,  the  rep- 
resentations were  chiefly  secular.  The 
Venetian  festivals  were  marvels  of  fan- 
tastic splendor,  not  on  land  alone,  but  on 
the  Grand  Canal,  where  in  one  case  we 
read  that  "A  round  universe  floated,  so 
immense  that  a  ball  was  given  inside  of 
it."  The  Roman  carnivals  were  more  va- 
ried in  the  fifteenth  century  than  else- 
where, and  they  were  the  first  to  disclose 
the  effect  of  a  great  procession  by  gas- 
light. 

The  Florentine  Carnival  surpassed  the 
Roman  in  a  certain  class  of  processions, 
for  instance :  ''among  a  crowd  of  maskers 
on  foot  and  on  horseback  appeared  a  huge 
chariot,  and  upon  it  allegorical  figures,  or 
groups  of  figures,  with  their  proper  ac- 
companiments,   as    Jealousy    with    four 

22 


ESSAYS 

spectacled  faces  on  one  head;  the  four 
Temperaments  with  the  planets  belonging 
to  them;  the  three  Fates;  Prudence  en- 
throned above  Hope  and  Fear,  which  lay 
bound  before  her;  the  four  Seasons;  also 
the  famous  chariot  of  death;  and  the 
naval  car — a  ship  fitted  up  with  great 
splendor."  Often  fine  scenes  from  myth- 
ology were  grandly  represented,  which 
would  fill  volumes  to  describe. 

Napoleon  the  First,  imitating  the  vic- 
torious Roman  warrior,  made  his  return 
after  one  of  his  campaigns  as  magnificent 
as  possible,  and  was  laurel-crowned  amid 
enthusiastic  admirers. 

The  chief  features  of  the  social  life  of 
the  Renaissance  were:  First,  the  partial 
equalization  of  the  classes;  second,  wom- 
an's social  equality  with  man;  third,  a 
system  of  aesthetic  behavior;  fourth,  a 
vigorous  effort  for  the  perfection  of  the 
individual;  fifth,  a  desire  to  become  fa- 
mous and  immortal  by  achievment;  sixth, 
an  effort  for  pure  and  lofty  forms  of 
speech;  seventh,  an  intense  love  of  scenic 
display,  which  is  shown  in  the  carnivals, 
festivals  and  processions.    In  a  word  all 

23 


ESSAYS 

departments  of  life  were  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  a  fine  art.  The  mind  becomes  al- 
most fatigued  and  dazed  in  looking  over 
this  period  of  social  splendor  and  immense 
intellectual  activity.  All  sacred  and  pro- 
fane history,  all  mythological  and  legend- 
ary history,  philosophy,  poetry,  painting, 
sculpture,  music,  many  of  the  sciences  and 
mechanical  arts,  were  combined  to  pro- 
duce a  perfection  of  life  never  before  at- 
tained and  whose  brilliancy  dazzles  us 
even  to-day. 

Much  of  this  gorgeous  coloring  was 
transitory.  But  there  were  developed  at 
this  period  divine  truths,  made  manifest 
and  permanent  through  art  and  imperish- 
able as  only  art  can  be.  But  Italy  was 
rapidly  passing  the  zenith  of  her  glory. 
Art  was  loved  and  sought,  not  for  its  own 
sake,  but  only  in  so  far  as  it  would  excite 
the  appetite  for  selfish  pleasure  and  add 
to  the  amusement  of  the  people.  This  soon 
degenerates  into  a  love  of  enervating  ease 
and  luxury,  which  marks  the  decay  of 
any  nation.  But  the  corruption  of  Church 
and  State,  and  the  licentiousness  of  the 
ruling  classes,  though  an  outgrowth  of  a 

24 


ESSAYS 

high  state  of  civilization,  the  excrescence 
and  fungus  growth  which  must  end  in 
final  rot  and  decay — these  were  not  the  es- 
sence, the  creative  spirit  of  the  Renais- 
sance; had  they  been,  it  would  not  live 
to-day  as  one  of  the  great  world-historic 
epochs.  It  was  an  age  of  surpassing  ego- 
ism; each  individual  posed  before  the 
world  for  his  own  glory.  It  was  the  ego- 
ism born  of  man's  becoming  self-con- 
scious and  the  absolute  devotion  of  a 
nation  to  the  perfection  of  the  individual, 
regardless  of  the  higher  law,  which  recog- 
nizes the  broader  spiritual  truth  that 
man's  first  duty  and  keenest  pleasure  is  a 
loving  sacrifice  to  his  brother  man. 


25 


VITTORIA  COLONNA 


yiTTORIA  COLONNA. 

THE  most  beautiful  woman,  as  well 
as  the  most  beautiful  character,  of 
the  Italian  Renaissance  was  Vit- 
toria  Colonna,  the  one  and  only  love  of 
Michael  Angelo.  This  fact  is  of  itself 
enough  to  immortalize  her.  Not  only  the 
greatest  artist  of  the  world  loved  her,  but 
the  whole  nation  bowed  in  admiration  of 
her  beauty,  and  reverence  for  her  nobility 
and  purity  of  character. 

Many  women  have  been  loved  by  great 
men  before.  It  is  said  of  George  Sand 
that  ''J^l^s  Sandeau  loved  her  dearly, 
Chopin  madly,  Alfred  de  Musset  passion- 
ately," but  the  love  which  Michael  Angelo 
bore  Vittoria  was  a  beautiful  reverential 
adoration,  somewhat  as  Dante  loved  his 
Beatrice. 

Vittoria  Colonna  was  the  daughter  of 
Fabrizio  Colonna,  of  a  noble  and  princely 

29 


ESSAYS 

Italian  family,  originating  back  in  the 
eleventh  century.  Her  mother  was  Ag- 
nese  di  Montifelto,  the  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Urbine  (the  birthplace  of  Ra- 
phael). Vittoria  was  born  in  the  Castle 
of  Marino,  on  the  Lago  d'Albano,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1490,  and  at  an  early  age,  scarcely 
four  years,  she  was  affianced  by  her  par- 
ents to  Ferdinando  Francesco  d'Avalos, 
son  of  the  Marquis  of  Pescara.  For  a 
term  of  years  she  was  associated  and  edu- 
cated with  her  future  husband,  under  the 
care  of  a  sister  of  Pescara,  in  the  little 
town  of  Ischia,  a  beautiful  island  in  the 
Mediterranean,  belonging  to  the  Kingdom 
of  Naples. 

Very  little  is  given  of  Vittoria^s  early 
years,  yet  imagination  pictures  her  as  a 
sweet,  beautiful,  thoughtful  child,  deep, 
strong  and  unchanging  in  her  affections. 
This  is  evinced  by  her  devotion  to  her 
young  lover,  for  although  others  sought 
her  in  marriage,  she  would  listen  to  no 
other  proposals.  Ischia  is  in  sight  of  the 
buried  cities  of  Pompeii  and  Herculan- 
eum,  and  in  full  view  of  blazing  Vesuvius. 
With  all  these  grand,  natural  phenomena 

30 


ESSAYS 

around  her,  with  the  blue  skies  and  poetic 
atmosphere,  close  association  with  rare 
and  cultivated  minds,  and  all  the  refine- 
ments of  a  high  state  of  social  and  intel- 
lectual culture,  we  have  all  the  conditions 
which  assist  in  producing-  a  character  of 
rare  beauty  and  symmetry.  The  poetic 
temperament  could  scarcely  find  a  more 
congenial  atmosphere,  where  nature  and 
art  united  in  creating,  not  only  the  soft, 
sensuous  and  pleasing,  but  the  epic  and 
grand. 

At  the  early  age  of  seventeen  years, 
Vittoria  and  Pescara  were  married.  The 
wedding  is  described  as  unusually  bril- 
liant even  for  those  days  of  princely  mag- 
nificence, and  there  is  a  long  and  curi- 
ously interesting  list  of  the  bridal  gifts, 
which  were  truly  royal  in  costliness  and 
splendor. 

Very  pertinently  Trollope  says,  "For 
two  years  she  was  happy  and  wrote  no 
poetry." 

The  most  authentic  portrait  of  Vittoria 
is  one  preserved  in  the  Colonna  Gallery  at 
Rome.  "It  is  a  beautiful  face,  of  the  true 
Roman  type,  perfectly  regular,  of  exceed- 

31 


ESSAYS 

ing  purity  of  outline,  and  perhaps  a  little 
heavy  about  the  lower  part  of  the  face, 
but  the  calm,  large,  thoughtful  eyes  and 
superbly  developed  forehead  secure  it 
from  any  approach  toward  an  expression 
of  sensualism,  the  fulness  of  the  lips  is 
only  sufficient  to  indicate  that  sensitive- 
ness to,  and  appreciation  of,  beauty,  which 
constitutes  an  essential  element  in  the 
poetic  temperament.  The  hair  is  of  the 
bright  golden  tint  that  Titian  loved  so 
well  to  paint." 

There  is  also  one  in  England,  supposed 
to  have  been  painted  by  Michael  Angelo, 
a  description  of  which  is  given  us  by 
Grimm.  ''We  have  before  us  an  aged 
woman.  There  is  no  longer  the  fair  hair 
which  once  invested  her  with  such  a 
charm;  a  white  widow's  veil,  brought  low 
down  upon  her  brow,  envelops  her  head 
and  falls  over  her  bosom  and  shoulders. 
A  tall  figure,  dressed  in  black  velvet,  up- 
right, and  sitting  without  support  on  a 
chair,  the  circular  simply-formed  back  of 
which  is  grasped  in  front  by  her  right 
hand,  while  the  other  is  lying  on  an  open 
book  in  her  lap.    There  is  a  grand  repose 

32 


ESSAYS 

in  her  features,  a  slightly  pained  com- 
pression about  the  eyes  and  mouth;  she 
appears  aged,  but  not  decrepit;  and  the 
deep  lines  which  fate  has  drawn  are  noble 
and  energetic/' 

These  two  portraits  are  typical  of  the 
perfect  woman  Vittoria  was,  the  first  giv- 
ing us  the  beauty,  grace  and  physical 
loveliness  which  nature  sometimes  be- 
stows upon  her  children,  and  with  the 
richer  accompaniment  of  a  fine,  strong 
mind  and  warm,  constant  heart  in  its 
youth  and  energy.  Even  in  the  first  pic- 
ture, the  promise  of  that  dignified  and 
grand  old  age  was  foreshadowed,  the 
serene  and  noble  evening  of  a  most  glori- 
ous morning  of  human  life. 

Pescara,  following  the  example  of  all 
noblemen  of  his  time,  entered  the  army, 
and  chose  for  the  motto  on  his  shield, 
"On  this,  or  by  this,''  and  engaged  in  the 
war  between  France  and  Venice.  He  "re- 
ceived from  Vittoria  at  parting  a  superb 
pavilion  and  an  embroidered  standard,  as 
well  as  some  palm  leaves,  in  token  of  the 
hope  that  he  would  return  crowned  with 
honor." 

33 


ESSAYS 

During  her  husband's  absence,  Vittoria 
occupied  herself  with  her  correspondence 
with  him,  and  the  study  of  hterature,  of 
the  best  ancient  and  modern  authors. 
Pescara  won  distinguished  honors,  as  a 
brilHant  General,  and  was  offered  the 
Kingdom  of  Naples,  a  most  tempting 
bribe.  It  is  not  absolutely  sure  that  he 
contemplated  accepting  the  bribe,  or  turn- 
ing trajtor  to  Charles  of  Spain,  because 
the  plans  were  unsuccessful,  but  Pescara's 
character  was  laid  open  to  the  severest 
criticism  of  his  own  and  of  succeeding 
times.  In  this  respect  Vittoria  stood  in 
noble  contrast  to  her  husband,  as  not  a 
shadow  rests  upon  her  in  this  affair.  Her 
letters  to  him  place  her  most  nobly  and 
loyally  before  the  world. 

In  1525  Pescara  died.  Vittoria's  grief' 
was  overwhelming,  and  for  a  time  she  lost 
her  reason.  She  desired  to  retire  to  the 
Convent  of  San  Silvestro,  and  did  so  for 
a  short  time,  and  she  would  gladly  have 
remained  within  its  sheltering  walls,  but 
the  Pope,  with  the  wisdom  and  Machia- 
vellian policy,  peculiar  to  Popes  and 
princes  of  the  time,  absolutely  forbade 

34 


ESSAYS 

this.  After  a  year  at  Rome,  she  returned 
to  Ischia,  and  began  those  poems,  on  the 
loss  of  her  husband,  which  form  an  "In 
Memoriam,"  and  a  deep  and  constant 
study  of  the  best  masters  of  ancient  and 
modern  thought. 

Vittoria  was  at  this  period  of  her  Hfe 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  all  Italy. 
Cities  and  Courts  quarreled  over  her  as  a 
guest,  she  was  the  friend  and  correspond- 
ent of  many  of  the  greatest  men  of  the 
day;  the  intimate  friend  of  Cardinals  Pole 
and  Contarini  and  Bernardino  Ochino, 
men  in  whose  minds  was  kindled  the  fire 
of  revolution,  which  finally  resulted  in  the 
Italian  Reformation;  Ischia  was  the  cen- 
ter of  a  little  circle  of  the  most  illustrious 
and  renowned  poets  and  scholars;  and 
Vittoria  was  the  Priestess  of  that  circle. 
One  is  reminded  of  that  wonderful  Athe- 
nian circle,  where  Aspasia  reigned  su- 
preme, but  in  Ischia  a  purer,  loftier  di- 
vinity inspired  her  devotees;  one  gives  us 
the  Pagan  ideal,  the  other  the  Christian, 
and  again  later  the  little  circle  of  Weimar, 
where  Charlotte  Von  Stein,  Goethe  and 
Schiller  held  high  court  and  high  thought. 

35 


ESSAYS 

Trollope  tries  to  make  much  of  what  he 
calls  the  deteriorating  influence  of  Pes- 
cara  on  Vittoria's  character,  and  speaks 
particularly  of  her  lack  of  patriotism,  and 
suggests  the  husband's  influence  as  a  pos- 
sible cause,  quoting  Tennyson's  lines : 

"Thou  shalt  lower  to  his  level  day  by  day, 

What  is  fine  within  thee  growing  coarse 

To  sympathize  with  clay. 

As  the  husband  is,  the  wife  is. 

Thou  art  mated  with  a  clown. 

And  the  grossness  of  his  nature 

Will  have  weight  to  drag  thee  down." 

Trollope  also  speaks  ironically  of  her 
long  years  of  lamentation  over  the  loss  of 
her  husband,  and  suggests  that  she  was 
doubtless  as  much  in  earnest  as  Petrarch 
in  his  adoration  for  Laura. 

All  of  these  accusations  are  at  variance 
with  the  facts  of  the  history  of  Vittoria's 
life  and  character.  In  the  first  place,  as 
the  biographers  have  given  us  the  lives  of 
the  two,  Vittoria  and  Pescara,  Vittoria's 
seems  to  be  absolutely  without  flaw,  or 
speck,  or  blemish.  Second,  the  husband 
and  wife  were  separated  by  war  two  years 

36 


ESSAYS 

after  marriage,  and  she  only  saw  him  at 
rare  intervals,  after  he  entered  the  army, 
before  his  death;  therefore,  his  influence 
in  moulding  her  opinions  was  doubtless 
very  slight,  and  in  the  few  instances  given 
she  held  her  own  ideas  of  right  with  un- 
yielding pertinacity.  Third,  patriotism  is 
not  an  inborn  sentiment,  but  a  plant  of  a 
peculiar  civilization,  and  the  lack  of  patri- 
otism could  be  brought  against  many  of 
the  best  minds  of  the  age,  ''for  patriot- 
ism," says  Simonds,  "ceased  to  be  an  in- 
stinct, just  as  the  moral  and  religious  sen- 
sibilities were  blunted.  Instead  of  patri- 
otism, the  Italians  of  the  Renaissance 
were  inflamed  with  a  desire  for  cosmo- 
politan culture.'^  This  desire  for  culture, 
which  was  the  highest  ideal  of  the  time, 
Vittoria  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree. 
It  is  an  open  question  as  to  what  ex- 
tent Vittoria  espoused  the  Calvinistic  or 
"new  opinions,"  as  they  were  then  called. 
Her  poems  show  that  she  at  least  thought 
much  upon  the  subject  then  agitating  all 
Italy.  As  she  was  an  honored  guest  at 
the  Court  of  Ferara,  she  undoubtedly  met 
and  conversed  with  many    of    the    most 

37 


ESSAYS 

noted  reformers.  Calvin  enjoyed  the 
friendship  of  Margaret  of  Navara,  and 
the  patronage  of  Renata  of  Ferara,  these 
two  noble  women  were  dear  and  close 
friends  of  Vittoria's,  and  we  may  imagine 
high  and  glorious  conversation  when  this 
^'triumvirate  of  noble  women"  met  and 
held  communion  with  such  a  mind  as  Cal- 
vin's. Seeds  of  thought,  sown  upon  soil 
so  well  prepared  for  truth,  doubtless  bore 
fruit.  But  it  was  fruit  not  destined  to 
ripen  to  perfection. 

"While  Vittoria  was  in  Rome,  she  was 
received  by  the  Pope,  as  became  a  Prin- 
cess of  her  rank.  The  Emperor,  while 
in  Rome,  visited  her  in  her  palace;  the 
Cardinals  Pole  and  Contarini,  the  heads 
of  the  Ochino  party,  were  her  intimate 
friends;  and  those  not  linked  with  her  by 
the  interests  of  religious  reform  were  at- 
tracted by  her  beauty  and  amiability,  and 
that  which  is  styled  by  her  contemporaries 
her  learning.  People  were  proud  to  be  able 
to  reckon  themselves  as  her  friends,  ador- 
ers or  proteges,  for  her  connection  and 
the  high  consideration  of  her  family  per- 

38 


ESSAYS 

mitted  her  to  take  many  under  her  pro- 
tection/' 

When  Vittoria  met  Michael  Angelo  he 
was  sixty  years  old,  and  she,  though  no 
longer  young,  was  still  ''beautiful,  cheer- 
ful and  full  of  intellectual  activity/'  She 
possessed  to  an  eminent  degree  that  chief- 
est  of  graces  in  woman,  exquisite  tact. 
Without  apparent  effort,  without  coercion, 
without  violence  toward  any,  she  seemed 
to  draw  the  spirits  of  men  to  her  by  a 
power  lofty  and  ennobling,  as  it  was  sweet 
and  enticing.  It  was  the  natural,  and  not 
the  supernatural,  result  of  that  perfection 
of  character  whose  spirituality  breathes 
through  their  individuality  as  a  fine  ethe- 
real essence.  It  is  not  a  thing  to  be  imi- 
tated, it  is  the  essence  of  character,  where 
virtue  and  beauty  are  united  with  high 
intelligence. 

An  instance  of  this  tact  is  shown  where 
she  changed  her  husband's  nephew,  whom 
she  adopted,  treated  and  loved  as  a  son 
(for  she  was  childless),  from  a  wild,  reck- 
less youth  to  become  a  sober,  scholarly 
man.  Again  this  wonderful  tact  is  shown 
in  the  way  she  arranged  to  bring  Michael 

39 


ESSAYS 

Angelo  into  the  Church  of  San  Silvestro 
to  meet  Francesca  de  Orlando,  a  miniature 
painter  from  Spain,  who  desired  much  to 
hear  Michael  Angelo  converse  upon  art, 
and  where  Michael  Angelo  used  these 
noble  words  upon  art:  "True  painting  is 
only  an  image  of  the  perfection  of  God,  a 
shadow  of  the  pencil  with  which  he  paints, 
a  melody,  a  striving  after  harmony,"  and 
"true  art  is  made  noble  and  religious  by 
the  mind  producing  it,"  and  the  famous 
saying,  "Art  belongs  to  no  land;  it  comes 
from  Heaven,"  words  which  might  be 
written  in  letters  of  fire,  where  all  aspir- 
ants could  read  them  as  they  entered  the 
field  of  Art.  They  are  severe,  grand  and 
true. 

About  1538,  Contarini  and  Pole  had 
secret  hopes  of  filling  the  Papal  chair  aft- 
er the  death  of  Paul,  and  in  this  hope  Vit- 
toria  fully  sympathized,  and  said  after  the 
former's  sad  and  sudden  death,  "He,  Con- 
tarini, ought  to  have  been  Pope  to  have 
made  the  age  happy." 

The  five  years  previous  to  this  were 
years  of  great  happiness  to  Michael  An- 
gelo, as  they  brought  him  into  compan- 

40 


ESSAYS 

ionship  with  the  noblest  woman  of  his 
age,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  Hfe  he 
learned  the  sweet  pleasure  of  yielding  his 
wishes  to  another,  to  one  who  could  fully 
comprehend  him  and  his  work,  a  friend- 
ship unique  and  rare,  as  it  was  pure  and 
holy.  That  he  loved  her,  and  would  have 
gladly  taken  her  into  his  heart  and  life 
as  a  wife,  is  undoubtedly  true,  but  Vit- 
toria  was  a  widow,  in  heart  and  act;  that 
their  friendship  was  purely  platonic,  and 
fully,  aye,  cruelly,  recognized  as  such  by 
Michael  Angelo,  is  evinced  by  a  sonnet 
addressed  to  her,  which  is  full  of  exqui- 
site pathos :  "That  thy  beauty  may  tarry 
upon  earth,  but  in  possession  of  a  woman 
more  gracious  and  less  severe  than  thou 
art,  I  believe  that  nature  is  asking  back 
thy  charms,  and  commending  them  to 
gradually  leave  thee,  and  she  takes  them. 
With  thy  divine  countenance  she  is  adorn- 
ing a  lovely  form  in  the  sky ;  and  the  God 
of  Love  endeavors  to  give  her  a  compas- 
sionate heart ;  and  he  receives  all  my  sighs, 
and  he  gathers  up  my  tears,  and  gives 
them  to  him  who  will  love  her  as  I  love 
thee.     And,  happier  than  I  am,  he  will 

41 


ESSAYS 

touch  her  heart  perhaps  with  my  tor- 
ments; and  she  will  afford  him  the  favor 
which  is  denied  to  me/' 

But  another  poem  still  more  plainly 
shows  the  influence  which  Vittoria  exer- 
cised over  the  somber  life  and  genius  of 
Michael  Angelo: 

"When    Godlike   art   has,   with   superior 

thought, 
The  limbs  and  motions  in  idea  conceived 
In  simplest  form,  in  humble  clay  achieved, 
Is  the  first  offering  into  being  brought; 
Then  stroke  on  stroke,  from  out  the  living 

rock. 
Its  promised  work    the    practiced    chisel 

brings, 
And  into  life  a  form  so  graceful  springs, 
That  none  can  fear  for  it  time's  rudest 

shock. 
Such  was  my  birth;  In  humble  mould  I 

lay 
At  first ;  to  be  by  thee,  O !  lady  high ! 
Renewed,  and  to  a    work    more    perfect 

brought ; 
Thou  givest  what  lacking    is,    and    filest 

away 

42 


ESSAYS 

All  roughness :   Yet  what  torture  lie, 
Ere  my  wild  heart  can  be  restrained  and 
taught/' 

Though  we  have  many  poems  and  son- 
nets written  by  Michael  Angelo  to  Vit- 
toria,  there  is  but  one  scrap  of  her  wri- 
ting to  him  left  to  us,  and  that  is  a  letter 
in  the  possession  of  the  British  Museum, 
"though  eight  others  are  said  to  be  still 
held  back  in  Florence,"  and  of  the  many 
letters  of  his  to  her,  only  one  is  said  to  be 
in  existence,  and  but  very  few  of  his 
poems  can  be  said  to  be  certainly  his. 

There  were  many  editions  of  Vittoria's 
poems  published,  and  they  were  read  with 
avidity  by  all  her  contemporaries. 

The  tenor  and  spirit  of  her  poems  are 
of  true  humility,  sustained  by  hope  and 
faith,  a  spirit  striving  for  resignation  and 
perfection  of  soul,  a  vivid  hope  of  immor- 
tality, and  increase  of  life  and  love,  in  a 
world  to  come.  Her  early  sorrow,  in  the 
death  of  her  husband;  her  deep  seclusion 
for  years  afterwards,  her  devotion  to 
good  deeds  and  great  thoughts,  her  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  best  writers 

43 


ESSAYS 

of  the  past,  and  her  intimate  personal 
acquaintance  with  the  highest  minds  of 
her  own  day,  her  character  elevated  and 
purified  by  the  fires  of  shattered  hopes  and 
ambitions,  and  the  complete  downfall  of 
her  once  powerful  family,  of  which  she 
was  naturally  and  loyally  proud,  all  con- 
spired to  develop  the  poetic  genius  within 
her.  That  her  poems  are  somewhat 
stately  and  scholastic  is  perhaps  attribu- 
table to  the  style  cultivated  at  the  period, 
but  dignified,  and  full  of  holy  feeling,  cer- 
tainly they  are. 

With  the  death  of  Contarini  and  the 
reign  of  Caraffa,  her  hopes  were  crushed 
for  the  supremacy  of  the  Ochino  party, 
and  she  retired  to  Viterbo.  Later  came 
the  final  blow,  when  the  Castles  of  the 
Colonnas  were  seized,  and  on  her  return 
to  Rome,  Vittoria  found  none  of  her  fam- 
ily, and  all  was  wreck  and  ruin  of  her 
earthly  hopes  of  a  return  of  power  or 
prosperity. 

She  retired  into  the  Benedictine  Con- 
vent of  St.  Anne  dei  Funarie,  where  she 
spent  the  remainder  of  her  life.  How 
powerful    was    her    influence    and    how 

44 


ESSAYS 

greatly  she  was  feared  by  the  Inquisition 
is  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  twenty  years 
after  her  death  a  Florentine  nobleman 
was  to  be  burned  to  death,  and  one  of  the 
principal  crimes  that  was  brought  against 
him  was  the  fact  that  he  had  been  a  friend 
of  Vittoria  Colonna ! 

In  1547  Vittoria  failed  rapidly,  and  died 
in  February,  in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of 
her  age.  Michael  Angelo  saw  Vittoria 
up  to  the  last,  and  it  is  recorded  of  him 
that  he  said  after  her  death  that  ''he  re- 
pented of  nothing  so  much  as  having  only 
kissed  her  hand,  and  not  her  forehead  and 
cheeks  also,  when  he  went  to  her  at  her 
last  hour."  Yet  here  is  shown  the  habit- 
ual, deferential  and  constant  habit  of 
mind  and  thought  which  he  bore  towards 
Vittoria  in  her  life,  so  strong  that,  even 
in  the  agony  of  utter  loss,  of  utter  im- 
possibility of  reproach  or  of  reciprocation 
from  her  he  so  loved,  he  did  not  press 
upon  cheek,  or  forehead,  the  passionate 
kisses  which  were  never  permitted  in  life. 
It  was  an  instinct  of  deep  reverence,  as 
truly  as  habit,  and  shows  the  great  con- 
trol which  this  man  of  fire  and  genius  had 

45 


ESSAYS 

over  himself,  and  makes  luminous  to  the 
eyes  of  a  critical  world  her  pure  and  lofty 
relation  with  him.  History  offers  not  a 
parallel  case  of  such  noble  friendship  be- 
tween a  man  and  woman.  There  is  an 
almost  impenetrable  veil  over  Michael 
Angelo's  influence  over  Vittoria,  but  she 
seems  to  be  one  of  those  deep  natures, 
whose  love,  once  aroused,  burns  out  its  fire 
of  passion  at  the  altar  of  the  one  and  only 
beloved. 

We  have  no  desire,  even  if  we  had  the 
right,  to  peer  into  her  heart,  and  see  there 
its  secret  thoughts ;  but  that  these  thoughts 
must  have  been  noble  and  pure  in  the 
highest  degree  is  certain;  for  thought  is 
the  well-spring  of  action,  and  all  the  facts 
of  her  eventful  life  were  irreproachable. 
That  her  influence  over  Michael  Angelo 
was  purifying  as  the  purging  fires  is 
shown  by  his  sufferings  and  strivings ;  but 
she  also  brought  to  him  such  happiness  as 
is  rarely  vouchsafed  to  man,  for  a  true 
kindred  soul  is  the  chiefest  blessing  which 
life  can  give.  She  was  a  benediction  to 
him,  entering  into  his  gloomy  soul  and 
lifting  it  up  on  the    eternal    heights    of 

46 


ESSAYS 

serenity  and  peace.  She  brought  to  him, 
though  late  in  his  Hfe,  sweet  inspiration, 
thorough  understanding  and  sympathetic 
.appreciation;  gave  him  a  keener  mental 
:and  spiritual  insight,  and  brought  his 
whole  nature  into  greater  harmony  with 
himself  and  the  world.  It  enables  us  to 
see  more  clearly  the  delicate,  tender  and 
humane  traits  in  that  large,  many-sided 
nature.  It  was  a  flood  of  warm,  revivi- 
fying, purifying  sunshine  that  burst  upon 
Michael  Angelo's  life,  that  illuminated  its 
close,  leaving  us  with  a  fuller  knowledge 
of  the  greatest  artist,  and  giving  a  glimpse 
of  the  possibilities  of  sweetness  and  gen- 
tleness which  might  have  characterized 
Michael  Angelo's  life  had  this  sunshine 
breathed  upon  his  rigid  nature  in  the 
daily  companionship  of  a  happy  domestic 
life.  Yet  sorrow  and  solitude  are  the  al- 
tars to  which  genius  so  often  brings  the 
offerings  of  earthly  bliss,  and  whose  fires 
burn  away  all  grossness,  leaving  us  only 
the  richer  inheritance  of  imperishable 
truth  and  beauty. 


47 


SAVANAROLA 


SAVANAROLA. 

IN  estimating  human  character,  three 
things  must  be  considered  as  pri- 
mary and  formative  factors.  First, 
heredity;  second,  temperament,  or  consti- 
tutional idiosyncrasy;  third,  environ- 
ment. In  some  cases  the  first  has  an  over- 
v^helming  influence,  ahiiost  depriving  the 
individual  of  moral  responsibility;  for  in- 
stance, inherited  insanity,  inebriety  and 
kleptomania.  Such  cases  are  exceptional, 
but  in  every  instance  that  which  we  in- 
herit remains  a  strongly  modifying  influ- 
ence to  the  end  of  life. 

The  second,  temperament,  is  an  attri- 
bute that  can  be  largely  controlled  and 
modified,  but  this  will  be  a  lifelong  work, 
because  it  will  confront  us  hourly,  and 
clamor  for  supremacy. 

The  third,  environment,  occupies  a 
large  field  and  embraces  a  much  discussed 

51 


ESSAYS 

question.  The  Napoleonic  theory,  so 
boastfully  expressed  when  its  author  was 
at  the  zenith  of  his  power,  that  ''man 
makes  his  own  circumstances,"  is  con- 
fronted at  once  by  the  dismal  picture  of 
this  same  great  conqueror,  desolate  and 
defenseless,  on  the  Island  of  St.  Helena. 

Men  are  the  architects  of  their  own  des- 
tiny and  weave  the  principal  thread  of 
their  lives,  and  are  responsible  for  their 
acts,  for  this  is  the  corner-stone  of  any 
true  ethical  system.  It  is  those  who  are 
unable  to  cope  with  life  heroically  who 
fall  back  upon  the  pitiful  plea,  "Circum- 
stances were  against  me."  This  plea  be- 
gan with  Adam  and  has  never  lacked  fol- 
lowers. 

In  summing  up  the  character  of  Sa- 
vanarola  we  shall  find  that  he  was  very 
strongly  influenced  by  his  environment; 
his  temperamental  weakness  he  conquered 
almost  wholly. 

He  was  of  a  delicate,  proud,  passion- 
ate, over-sensitive  disposition,  but  a  love 
of  ease  he  consciously  exchanged  for  a 
life  of  rigid  austerity;  from  a  shrinking, 
sensitive  spirit  he  was  urged  by  the  fervor 

52 


ESSAYS 

of  his  convictions  to  become  the  most  un- 
yielding and  implacable  of  warriors. 

The  ancestral  blood  which  flowed  in  the 
veins  of  Savanarola  was  largely  belliger- 
ent and  warlike,  for  his  ancestors,  like 
himself,  were  men  of  Padua.  Yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  religious  and  artistic  feel- 
ings were  cultivated  by  contact  with  noble 
w^orks  of  art,  which  shed  their  softening 
and  benign  influence  upon  his  fiery  dis- 
position. 

Michael  Angelo  was  but  one  year 
younger;  Bartolomea  but  eight  years 
older;  Perugino  but  nineteen  years  his 
senior,  and  Fra  Angelica,  who  wrought 
those  sweet,  angelic  faces  which  still  live 
for  us,  had  died  only  twenty  years  previ- 
ously; besides  the  works  of  all  the  other 
great  Masters,  who  had  left  their  work 
and  spirit  indelibly  impressed  upon  the 
minds  and  hearts  of  the  people  of  Italy 
and  the  world. 

Savanarola's  nature  partook  of  the 
epic  as  well  as  of  the  artistic  spirit  of  his 
age,  and  accounts  somewhat  for  the  con- 
tradictions in  his  nature. 

Savanarola's    family    belonged    to    the 

S3 


ESSAYS 

medical  profession,  his  grandfather  being 
a  celebrated  physician,  a  man  of  large  and 
varied  learning,  devoted  to  his  grandchild 
and  desiring  him  to  follow  in  his  foot- 
steps. 

Emilio  Castilar  says:  "Savanarola's 
education  commenced  with  the  ph3^sical 
sciences — a  course  alien  to  his  natural  dis- 
position and  contrary  to  his  mental  voca- 
tion. Fortunately,  medicine  was  not  at 
that  time  so  much  separated  from  arts 
and  letters  as  at  the  present."  This 
grandfather  exercised  much  influence 
over  the  early  years  of  Savanarola,  but 
died  before  his  education  was  completed, 
and  his  father  ''restricted  the  training  of 
his  son  to  the  science  of  the  period,"  viz., 
a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  dogmas 
of  the  church.  But  his  mother,  a  woman 
of  rare  gift  of  mind  and  heart,  exercised 
a  still  stronger  influence  over  him,  an  in- 
fluence which  was  never  lost,  and  was 
overshadowed  by  a  greater  and  stronger 
one  only  for  a  brief  period,  when  he  met 
and  loved  the  beautiful  woman  belonging 
to  the  patrician  Florentine  family  of 
Strozzie.     But  Savanarola's  family  was 

54 


ESSAYS 

considered  far  beneath  them,  belonging  to 
the  medical  profession,  which,  strange  as 
it  may  appear  to  us,  was  not  held  in  very 
high  respect,  and  to  this  fact  we  owe  the 
public  work  and  life  of  Savanarola,  for 
the  famil}^  would  not  hear  of  an  alliance 
with  Savanarola  for  their  lovely  daugh- 
ter. 

Thus,  before  he  was  twenty  years  old, 
the  saddest  of  all  disappointments  and 
sorrows  had  entered  his  soul.  After  a 
long  and  severe  struggle  with  the  love  and 
duty  he  owed  to  his  beloved  mother,  be- 
tween whom  and  himself  existed  a  most 
beautiful  sympathy  and  appreciation,  he 
buried  himself  in  the  cloister  in  April  (the 
24th),  1475,  fi'oni  which  he  was  to  emerge 
years  afterwards  a  melancholy,  wornout 
ascetic,  to  yield  his  body  to  the  rack  of 
torture  and  final  death. 

Emilio  Castilar  says  of  him  after  this 
event,  entering  the  cloister,  took  place: 
"As  a  monk,  he  will  have  to  see  things  of 
the  world  through  the  walls  of  the  clois- 
ter; as  a  politician,  he  will  have  to  look 
upon  the  cloister  through  the  atmosphere 
of  the  world;  as  a  mystic,  he  will  have  to 

55 


ESSAYS 

convert  moral  and  religious  rules  into 
coercive  laws;  as  a  politician,  he  must  give 
prayers,  sermons  and  penitential  services 
a  certain  revolutionary  tone,  certain  war- 
like complexion.  But  with  all  these  con- 
tradictions— possibly  on  account  of  these 
contradictions — no  one  in  history  personi- 
fies and  represents  with  better  right  that 
new  birth  of  the  religious  spirit  presented 
in  the  gospel  of  Christ  which  has  come 
down  into  the  midst  of  society  like  a 
leaven  of  life,  quickening  all  its  institu- 
tions as  with  a  new  soul." 

As  with  all  true  men,  the  political  wel- 
fare of  his  country,  as  well  as  the  moral, 
filled  his  heart  with  keen  anxiety  and  he 
became  thoroughly  permeated  with  the  po- 
litical atmosphere  of  his  time. 

The  state  was  unsettled  and  heated;  it 
was  like  living  under  the  shadow  of  a 
volcano;  church  and  state  were  at  war 
with  each  other ;  Popes  and  Princes  fought 
for  supremacy.  The  same  spirit  which 
actuated  the  internal  wars  and  dissensions 
between  Guelphs  and  Ghibilines  two  cen- 
turies before,  in  Dante's  time,  filled  the 
hearts  of  the  different  factions,  and  the 

56 


ESSAYS 

political  welfare  and  freedom  of  Flor- 
ence was  as  dear  to  the  fiery  heart  of  the 
religious  enthusiast  as  centuries  before  it 
had  been  to  the  melancholy,  far-seeing 
soul  of  the  divine  poet. 

Something  of  the  belligerent  spirit  of 
the  times  may  be  imagined  from  a  little 
story.  When  Charles  of  Spain,  with  a 
grand  army,  pressing  to  the  gates  of 
Florence,  said,  "If  you  do  not  comply  with 
our  terms,  we  will  blow  our  trumpets,"  he 
was  grandly  and  proudly  answered  by 
Capponi,  one  of  the  ''ten"  who  composed 
the  Senate,  ''Then  we  will  ring  our  bells." 
This,  the  ringing  of  the  bells,  was  the 
signal  which  had  been  agreed  upon  by  the 
Florentines  to  take  up  arms  against  the 
French. 

Savanarola  was  the  advance  guard  of 
that  mighty  army  which  was  to  come  with 
fire  and  sword  a  half-century  later  to 
electrify  the  Kingdoms  of  Europe,  to 
usher  the  light  of  the  Reformation,  ban- 
ners of  which  were  borne  by  Luther, 
Calvin,  Huss  and  Knox. 

Like  all  great  minds,  Savanarola  was 
far  in  advance  of  his  time.    The  prophetic 

57 


ESSAYS 

spirit  which  is  one  of  the  elements  of  gen- 
ius, but  which  to  the  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious seems  miraculous,  is  only  far- 
sighted  wisdom,  and  a  knowledge  of  uni- 
versal truth,  based  upon  history  and  phil- 
osophic insight.  Savanarola  grasped  these 
historical  truths  because  he  could  ''read 
between  the  lines,"  and  knew  that  great 
changes  must  come  to  his  beloved  Flor- 
ence. He  knew  that  the  tidal  wave  had 
swept  as  far  in  the  direction  of  depravity 
and  error  as  it  could  go,  and  that  reac- 
tion must  set  in.  Into  his  hands  he 
thought  was  given  the  command  and 
power  to  close  the  floodgates  of  sin  and 
error,  and  stop  the  devastation  which 
must  inevitably  follow  unless  the  tide  was 
turned. 

A  great  diversity  of  opinion  has  ever 
existed  in  regard  to  the  character  of 
Savanarola,  as  well  in  his  own  as  in  sub- 
sequent times,  and  while  some  have  con- 
sidered him  a  saint  and  a  martyr,  others 
have  stigmatized  him  as  an  impostor  and 
demagogue.  This  difference  of  opinion 
was  the  logical  result  of  the  contradictory 
nature  of  the  man.    One  writer  very  per- 

58 


ESSAYS 

tinently  says:  *'It  has  been  asked  how  it 
was  that  Socrates,  after  thirty  years  of 
pubHc,  notorious  and  efficacious  discours- 
ing, lost  his  hold  upon  the  people  of  Ath- 
ens; and  the  reason  has  been  found  to  be 
in  the  character  and  circumstances  of  the 
Athenians.  Savanarola  exercised  a  power 
and  sway  over  the  minds  of  the  people  and 
over  the  history  of  Florence  never  pos- 
sessed by  Socrates,  and  the  people  turned 
against  him  with  a  completeness  and  bit- 
terness which  far  exceeded  the  madness 
of  the  people  of  Athens." 

By  a  close  analysis  of  Savanarola's 
character,  we  shall  find  that  his  uncom- 
promising, unyielding  harshness  had 
within  itself  the  sure  prophecy  of  failure, 
for  "we  have  now  learned  that  to  paralyze 
personal  liberty  beyond  what  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  the  protection  of  others  is  to 
induce  evils  far  greater  than  any  which  we 
are  able  to  suppress."  That  Savanarola 
did  not  grasp  this  principle  is  evident 
through  all  the  acts  of  his  eventful  life. 
It  is  not  strange,  nor  even  discreditable 
that  he  did  not ;  for  liberty  and  patriotism 
in  the  larger  sense  were  not  a  part  of  the 

59 


ESSAYS 

movement  of  the  Italian  Renaissance. 
These  principles  did  not  belong  to  his 
time.  This  charge  could  be  brought 
against  many  other  great  minds  of  this 
period. 

His  uncompromising  severity  is  well  il- 
lustrated by  this  story  told  of  him.  In 
one  of  his  sermons,  speaking  of  the  cor- 
ruption in  the  church,  he  said,  "In  the 
primitive  church  were  chalices  of  wood 
and  Prelates  of  gold;  in  these  days,  the 
church  has  golden  chalices  and  wooden 
Prelates !"  It  was  a  most  heroic  thing  to 
proclaim  war  heroically  upon  the  vices  of 
a  vicious  age,  especially  when  these  vices 
were  incarnate  in  the  rulers  of  church  and 
state.  But  Savanarola  feared  neither 
Prince  nor  Pope  and  hurled  his  javelins 
of  fierce  denunciation,  meaning  to  cut 
deep  into  the  heart  of  sin  and  corruption. 

It  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  genius 
that  it  overreaches  itself,  that  it  has  in  it 
the  spirit  of  prophecy  and  inspiration. 
When  Savanarola  told  his  people  that  he 
was  "called  of  God,"  "That  God  had  re- 
vealed his  divine  will  to  him,"  though  us- 
ing this  rather  ambiguous  language,  he 

60 


ESSAYS 

recognized  his  purely  human  powers,  and 
when  not  borne  along  by  the  passion  of 
his  feelings,  took  reasonable  views  of  his 
work.  But  he  had  launched  his  bark 
upon  a  stream  whose  current  he  did  not 
fully  realize  or  fathom.  At  last,  when  he 
did  realize  it,  it  was  too  late,  and  in  a 
moment  of  weakness,  after  long  hesita- 
tion, he  yielded  to  the  satanic  demands  of 
his  enemies  and  consented  to  pass  through 
the  ''test  of  fire,"  and  this  moment  marked 
his  doom.  We  cannot  assume  positively 
what  the  result  would  have  been  had  he 
never  for  one  moment  yielded  his  higher 
convictions  to  this  demand;  possibly  the 
present  result  would  have  been  the  same, 
for  the  tide  had  set  and  could  not  be  easily 
changed,  but  not  so  weakly  superstitious 
would  he  have  appeared  upon  the  pages  of 
history. 

Savanarola  believed  with  his  whole 
soul  in  the  work  he  had  to  do  and  the  re- 
forms he  advocated;  but  there  came  a 
time,  there  was  a  point  at  which  he  be- 
came uncertain  of  himself.  He  did  not 
lay  claim  to  the  power  of  performing 
miracles,  but  his  great  fault,  even  sin,  lay 

6i 


ESSAYS 

in  the  fact  that  he  did  not  from  the  first 
discourage  the  superstition  that  such  mir- 
acles or  evidence  might  be  granted  in  con- 
firmation of  his  power  and  doctrines. 

Savanarola's  character  in  its  deep  in- 
tensity and  fierce  power  of  denunciation 
is  Dantesque.  He  belonged  strictly  to  the 
church  militant.  He  did  not  realize  that 
virtue  is  of  slow  growth;  he  had  not 
learned  to  wait.  He  planted  his  seed  in 
the  ground  and  then  called  upon  the  sim 
and  rain  to  pour  upon  it,  and  all  nature  to 
hasten  her  operations,  to  bring  forth  the 
full  grown  tree  and  fruit  at  once.  He  was 
intensely  practical  and  had  magnificent 
executive  abilities,  but  he  lacked  imagina- 
tion and  took  little  heed  of  individual 
rights  and  needs.  Such  impetuous  men 
seem  to  be  necessary  in  the  development 
of  truth  and  humanity,  and  they  carry  the 
torch  of  reformation  into  the  very  heart 
of  complacent  mediocrity.  Such  men  are 
ever  the  pioneers  of  God's  work  in  the 
world. 

Savanarola's  character  stands  for  mar- 
tyrdom to  the  higher  law,  because  he 
would  obey  the  voice  of  his  own  soul  and 

62 


ESSAYS 

conscience  rather  than  the  voice  and  au- 
thority of  the  Church.  James  Freeman 
Clark,  speaking  of  Jean  d'Arc  and  Savan- 
arola,  says,  "Both  were  Lutherans  before 
Luther  and  Protestants  before  Protest- 
antism. Neither  had  any  quarrel  with  the 
Church  as  such,  both  desired  to  be  its 
faithful  and  obedient  servants,  both  be- 
lieved its  doctrines  and  gladly  received  its 
sacraments,  but  each  was  compelled  by 
the  awful  voice  of  conscience  to  refuse 
obedience  to  the  authority  of  the  Church." 
Why  Savanarola  should  have  failed  at 
last  so  utterly  and  completely  longer  to 
hold  his  power  over  the  people  of  Flor- 
ence is  a  difficult  question  to  answer,  per- 
haps impossible  to  answer.  It  cannot  be 
found  to  rest  alone  on  his  puritanical,  in- 
tolerant spirit,  for  severe  as  this  was,  he 
could  melt  the  hearts  of  his  listeners  to 
the  sweetest  humility  and  bring  tears  to 
the  eyes  of  the  stoic  and  conviction  to  the 
cultured  and  philosophic.  It  cannot  be 
found  to  rest  alone  on  the  character  of  the 
Florentines  themselves.  It  cannot  be 
proven  that  it  was  alone  in  the  viciousness 
of  the  age;  for  vicious  as  it  undoubtedly 

63 


ESSAYS 

was,  it  had  scarcely  passed  the  meridian 
of  a  period  whose  glories  in  art,  literature 
and  social  culture  outrival  all  other  his- 
toric periods;  an  age  ushered  in  by  the 
somber  genius  of  Dante,  followed  by  a 
long  line  of  the  brightest  and  greatest 
minds  that  ever  challenged  the  admiration 
and  reverence  of  a  hero-worshiping  world. 
Neither  can  it  be  found  in  any  peculiar 
culmination  of  circumstances.  Where, 
then,  can  we  look  for  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
mal going  out  of  this  great  luminary? 

The  one  cause  more  than  any  other 
which  contributed  to  this  unhappy  end  was 
a  failure  on  the  part  of  Savanarola  to 
cling  unfalteringly  to  his  highest  ideal,  to 
be  absolutely  true  to  his  innermost  con- 
victions. He  had  become  uncertain  of 
himself,  and  as  a  last  tremendous  effort 
and  struggle  for  supremacy,  he  weakly 
yielded  to  the  insistence  of  his  enemies 
and  the  urgent  persuasion  of  his  unwise 
and  misguided  friend,  San  Silvestro,  and 
consented  to  that  pitiful  ''test  by  fire.'' 
This  moment  marked  his  doom.  There  is 
strong  evidence  that  he  realized  this  and 
felt  it  most  keenly.     It  was  the  vain  cling- 

64 


ESSAYS 

ing  to  a  straw  of  one  who  knew  he  was 
drowning.  The  proof  of  this  Hes  in  the 
fact,  first,  from  his  association  with  his 
grandfather  and  his  scientific  and  medical 
education,  even  sHght  as  it  was  in  those 
days,  must  have  taught  him  something  of 
the  law  of  nature,  and  the  relation  of 
cause  and  effect.  He  must  have  learned 
that  it  is  the  nature  and  law  of  fire  to 
burn ;  and  that  God  does  not  interrupt  the 
workings  of  his  immutable  laws.  His 
study  of  physical  sciences  had  doubtless 
taught  him  this  much,  hence  his  reluctance 
and  hesitancy  to  undergo  the  test  by  fire. 
But  he  was  still  in  the  thraldom  of  super- 
stition and  bound  by  the  chains  of  author- 
ity. Second,  he  did  not  lay  claim  to  the 
performance  of  the  miracles,  or  make 
many  of  the  prophecies  which  his  ardent 
friends  claimed  for  him.  His  burning 
words,  often  spoken  in  metaphor,  were 
exaggerated  and  distorted  by  the  ignorant 
and  over-zealous.  Third,  he  did  not  use 
every  effort  from  the  very  first  to  discour- 
age the  belief  that  he  could  perform  such 
a  miracle  as  the  passing  through  fire  un- 
burned.     Fourth,  it  was  the  fear  of  fail- 

65 


ESSAYS 

ure  and  the  almost  certain  knowledge  that 
his  power  over  the  people  was  ebbing,  and 
this  knowledge,  coupled  with  a  certain 
stubbornness,  inherent  in  his  blood,  which 
was  exemplified  again  and  again  in  many 
acts  of  his  life,  made  him  willing  to  grasp 
even  this  straw,  in  the  hope  of  saving  his 
power  over  the  people  whom  he  loved.  It 
had  in  it  a  certain  Machiavellian  element 
which  he  often  used  in  his  relation  with 
the  Princes  and  Popes,  to  whom  he  was 
opposed.  Fifth,  he  yielded  his  reason  and 
will  to  superstition;  he  was  not  yet  a  free 
soul.  The  strongest  proof  of  this  lies  in 
the  fact  that  in  the  last  sad  moments  of 
his  life,  when  under  the  severest  torture, 
when  every  other  question  was  answered 
with  clearness  and  precision,  when  his  ac- 
cusers came  to  the  question  of  miracles 
and  prophecies,  his  language  at  once,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  became  dim,  un- 
certain, ambiguous.  Time  and  again  the 
same  questions  were  put  to  him  with  the 
same  result.  It  was  the  last  effort  of  a 
soul  to  be  absolutely  true  to  itself. 

There  was  no  hesitancy,  no  ambiguity, 
in  Luther's  answer  to  his  tormentors  at 

66 


ESSAYS 

the  Diet  of  Worms,  "I  can  retract  noth- 
ing, here  I  take  my  stand,"  and  this  spirit 
was  repeated  again  by  Ridley,  Latimer 
and  John  Rogers  at  the  stake  and  Robert 
Emmet  on  the  scaffold. 

It  is  one  of  the  glories  of  our  age  that 
such  a  spectacle  is  well-nigh  impossible  as 
the  "test  by  fire."  Science  forbids,  com- 
mon sense  forbids.  Something  of  its  folly 
sank  into  the  soul  of  the  martyr,  Savana- 
rola,  but  he  was  not  ready  to  burst  the 
bonds  that  held  him  captive.  But  to  him 
belong  the  honor  and  the  glory  of  paving 
the  way  for  those  who  came  after  him  to 
live  up  to  the  light  of  freedom. 


67. 


SHELLEY 


SHELLEY. 

Shelle:y's  Vie:ws  of  Nature;  Parallel- 
ism AND  Contrast  With  Other 
Poets. 

MOST  modern  poets  have  looked 
to  Nature  for  inspiration,  con- 
solation, sympathy  and  perennial 
freshness,  the  sacred  shrine  whereon  to 
lay  the  incense  of  each  burning  thought, 
or  calm  the  troubled  spirit.  The  unfath- 
omable mystery  of  Nature's  processes,  the 
marvelous  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tides,  the 
regularity  of  the  returning  seasons,  the 
beauty  of  the  sea  and  sky  and  flower,  the 
harmony  of  revolving  worlds,  and  systems 
of  worlds,  have  ever  kindled  the  imagina- 
tion and  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  true 
poetic  soul.  In  earlier  times  these  phe- 
nomena only  excited  fancy,  admiration, 
wonder,  awe  or  fear.    As  knowledge  and 

71 


ESSAYS 

science  advance,  revealing  with  telescope 
and  microscope  myriad  worlds  in  infinite 
space,  the  exquisite  beauty  hidden  in  the 
commonest  weed,  the  wonderful  relation 
of  one  form  of  development  to  another, 
the  variety  and  beautiful  interdependence 
of  each  to  all  and  all  to  each,  the  admi- 
ration and  wonder  do  not  grow  less,  but 
the  poetic  imagination,  guided  by  the 
revelations  of  Science,  revels  in  truth  and 
beauty,  knowing  for  certainty  that  we 
may  worship  Nature,  and  through  Na- 
ture, Nature's  God.  The  poet  sees  some- 
thing of  that  love  and  wisdom  which  is 
existent  in  and  through  all  external  phe- 
nomena, and  being  thus  related  to  Nature 
becomes  her  reverent  devotee  and  seeks 
through  her  laws  to  pierce  the  veil  of  the 
unknown  and  find  a  solution  of  those 
problems  of  Life,  Death  and  Immortality 
which  has  been  the  craving  of  all  high 
souls  in  all  times.  The  poet's  mind  is 
filled  with  glorious  visions  of  the  Unseen, 
while  his  enraptured  eyes  behold  with 
keenest  joy  the  perfection  and  beauty 
around  him.  His  poetry  partakes  of  this 
knowledge  and  this  ecstasy,  and  becomes 

72 


ESSAYS 

through  his  genius  a  world  poem,  because 
it  draws  its  sustenance  from  the  infinite, 
and  rests  upon  the  highest  canons  of  art, 
which  demands  some  Universal  Truth  for 
its  basis. 

Shelley  was  a  child  of  Nature  and  saw 
her  with  unfettered  vision.  Throwing  off 
early  in  life  the  yoke  of  superstition,  he 
came  to  her  untrammeled  and  she  yielded 
to  him  her  rarest  secrets.  His  soul,  with 
all  its  surging,  swaying  passions  strug- 
gling for  expression,  finds  at  all  times 
sympathy,  correspondence  and  inspiration 
in  the  changing  moods  and  forms  of  the 
material  universe. 

Shelley  has  been  truly  called  a  poet  of 
the  Nineteenth  Century,  for  in  this  mar- 
velous youth,  this  radiant  Apollo,  we  find 
the  close  observation  and  keen  analysis  of 
the  scientist  united  with  the  fiery  passion 
and  clear  insight  of  the  poet  and  seer.  In 
him  were  united  in  a  rare  degree  the 
''Wisdom  of  Love,  with  the  Love  of  Wis- 
dom." I  cannot  forbear  to  mention  the 
first  quality  of  Shelley's  poems,  although 
the  second  is  that  to  which  this  paper  is 
properly  assigned. 

73 


ESSAYS 

The  two  great  passions  of  his  Hfe,  love 
of  humanity  and  love  of  Nature,  were  so 
interwoven  that  it  is  difficult  to  consider 
them  independently.  For  his  views  of 
Nature  were  so  mingled  with  his  views 
of  human  life,  the  Creator  of  the  world, 
and  its  ultimate  perfection,  that  all  of 
these  are  embraced  in  his  anthems  of  pro- 
phecy and  rejoicing. 

The  first  impression  received  in  reading 
Shelley's  poems  from  Queen  Msh  to 
Prometheus  Unbound  is  his  love  of  hu- 
manity. This  was  the  fire  that  kindled 
each  thought  and  lighted  each  glowing 
word.  He  anticipated  the  fever  which  has 
risen  to  white  heat  to-day,  when  the  re- 
ligion of  humanity  by  whatsoever  name 
called  is  the  highest  expression  of  Christ- 
liness,  the  undying  principle  of  all  relig- 
ions or  ethics  and  the  chief  hunger  of  all 
true  souls.  This  love,  coupled  with  a 
marvelous  insight  into  the  inevitable  trend 
of  human  destiny  upward  and  onward  to 
a  goal  of  final  perfection,  was  not  simply 
a  hope,  it  was  a  sublime  faith,  based  upon 
the  recognition  of  the  divine  possibilities 
inherent  in  the  nature    of    man.      This 

74 


ESSAYS 

largeness  of  vision  and  prophetic  insight 
placed  him  far  above  and  in  advance  of 
his  own  time,  and  accounts  somewhat  for 
the  apparent  contradictions  and  the  mis- 
understandings of  his  work  and  genius. 

The  second  quality  in  Shelley's  poems 
is  his  adoring  love  of  Nature,  his  perfect 
sympathy  and  oneness  with  Nature,  and 
his  scientific  and  speculative  view,  a  view 
unknown  and  undreamed  of  by  the  ancient 
poets.  Dowden,  in  speaking  of  Queen 
Mab,  says:  "Seldom  before  in  English 
poetry  had  the  unity  of  Nature  and  the 
universality  of  law,  the  idea  of  a  Cosmos 
been  expressed  with  more  precision  or 
more  ardent  conviction:  seldom  before  in 
poetry  had  the  vast  and  ceaseless  flow  of 
being,  restless,  yet  subject  to  a  constant 
law  of  evolution  and  development,  been  so 
vividly  conceived." 

Nature,  or,  as  Shelley  preferred  to  say, 
the  Spirit  of  Nature  acting  necessarily, 
and  at  present  producing  indifferently 
good  and  evil,  giving  birth  alike  to  the 
hero,  the  martyr,  the  bigot,  the  tyrant, 
poisonous  serpent  and  innocent  lamb,  yet 
tends  unconsciously  upward  to  nobler  de- 

75 


ESSAYS 

velopments,  purging  itself  of  what  is  weak 
and  base.  Shelley's  Spirit,  which  circles 
half-mournfully,  half-exultantly  above  the 
ruins  of  the  past,  which  rises  on  the  wing 
and  screams  at  sight  of  all  oppression  and 
frauds  done  under  the  sun  in  this  our  day, 
flies  to  the  future  and  embraces  it  with 
lovers'  joy.  That  his  ideal  of  the  future 
golden  age  may  be  smiled  at  by  common 
sense  as  impracticable,  need  give  us  small 
offense.  In  following  the  sun,  he  loses 
his  way  in  a  radiant  cloudland;  yet  still 
amid  bright  voluminous  folds  of  error  he 
is  on  the  track  of  the  sun. 

Shelley's  views  of  Nature  were  not 
alone  the  result  of  his  poetic  insight,  but 
were  based  upon  the  substantial  study  of 
Philosophy  and  Science  under  such  mas- 
ters as  Pliny  the  Elder,  Bacon,  Rousseau, 
Bailey,  Locke,  Hume  and  Newton.  He 
was  constantly  searching  for  the  ''Mani- 
festation of  something  beyond  the  present 
and  tangible  object."  He  pierced  through 
things  to  their  spiritual  essence.  In  Na- 
ture there  was  no  voice,  however  soft  and 
low,  that  he  did  not  hear,  no  shade  of 
beauty  that  he  did  not  perceive,  no  crash 

76 


ESSAYS 

of  thunder  or  roll  of  cataract  that  he  did 
not  revel  in.  He  early  recognized  the  re- 
lation of  cause  and  effect,  not  revealed  to 
him  alone  by  an  array  of  facts  and  figures 
of  the  calm,  patient  scientist,  but  blazing 
forth  in  flash  of  inspiration  and  revela- 
tion. For  all  art  ends  in  Science  and  all 
poetry  in  a  Philosophy.  For  Science  and 
Philosophy  do  but  translate  into  precise 
formulae  the  original  conceptions  which 
art  and  poetry  render  by  imaginary  fig- 
ures. Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael  were 
followed  by  Galileo ;  after  Shakespeare  we 
had  a  school  of  naturalists  leading  up  to 
Harvey ;  after  Bacon,  Descartes  and  New- 
ton, and  after  Goethe,  Darwin  and  Hux- 
ley and  Spenser. 

At  the  early  age  at  which  Shelley  wrote 
Queen  Mab  we  see  this  scientific  and 
speculative  thread  running  clearly  and  un- 
mistakably through  the  poem.     He  says: 

"Spirit  of  Nature !  here 
In  this  interminable  wilderness 
Of  worlds,  at  whose  immensity 
Even  soaring  fancy  staggers. 
Here  is  thy  temple. 

77 


ESSAYS 

Yet  not  the  Lightest  Leaf 

That  quivers  in  the  passing  breeze 

Is  less  instinct  with  Thee. 

Yet  not  the  meanest  worm 

That  lurks  in  groves,  or  fattens  on  the 

dead, 
Less  shares  thy  eternal  breath." 

In  the  exquisite  little  poem,  "The 
Cloud,"  he  says: 

"I  am  the  daughter  of  earth  and  water 

And  the  nursling  of  the  sky, 

I  pass  through  the  pores  of  the  ocean  and 

shores, 
I  change:    But  I  cannot  die." 

In  these  lines  we  see  a  recognition  of 
the  indestructibility  of  matter  and  of  the 
law  of  transformation  and  organization 
ever  going  on  around  us,  creating  its  mir- 
acles of  beauty  and  life  in  infinite  variety. 

In  the  Prometheus  Unbound,  where  we 
find  the  matchless  songs  over  the  glad  day 
which  is  to  be,  the  moon  sings  thus : 

"Music  is  in  the  sea  and  air, 
Mingled  clouds  soar  here  and  there; 

78 


ESSAYS 

Dark  with  the  rain  new  buds  are  dream- 
ing of, 
'Tis  Love-All  Love." 

And  the  Earth  takes  up  the  refrain  and 
answers : 

*'It  interpenetrates  my  granite  mass, 
Through  tangled  roots  and  trodden  clay 

doth  pass 
Into  the  utmost  leaves  and  delicatest  flow- 
ers r 

And    Demigorgon,    answering    Asia's 
breathless  questions,  says: 

"If  the  abysm 
Could  vomit  forth  its  secrets — 

But  a  voice 
Is  wanting,  the  deep  truth  is 

Imageless ; 
For  what  would  it  avail  to  bid 
Gaze 

On  the  revolving  world?    What 
To  bid  speak 

Fate,  time,  occasion,  chance 
And  change?    To  thee 
All  things  are  subject  but 
Eternal  Love." 

79 


ESSAYS 

Words  could  not  better  or  more  finely 
express  the  poet's  reliance  upon  that  love 
which  is  coexistent  with  law,  or  a  more 
perfect  recognition  of  the  Divine  and  eter- 
nal. 

He  realized  that  man  is  a  microcosm,  a 
reflection  of  that  power  which  holds  the 
universe  in  harmony,  and  which  he  called 
the  ''Spirit  of  Nature,"  because  he  did  not 
wish  to  limit  or  define  the  limitless  and  un- 
definable.  None  but  the  most  reverent 
and  humble  spirits  thus  confess  the  limita- 
tions of  the  finite  mind,  and  the  impossi- 
bility of  absolutely  unclouded  knowledge 
of  the  Infinite. 

Goethe, 

In  Goethe's  works  we  find  a  wonderful 
similarity  of  view  of  Nature,  with  the 
same  love,  sympathy  and  delight  in  study- 
ing her  mysteries.  Goethe  says:  'Xife 
is  not  light,  but  refracted  color."  Here  the 
thought  is  repeated  in  metaphor  drawn 
from  Goethe's  study  of  color.  The  water- 
fall is  a  symbol  of  human  endeavor,  im- 
petuous, never  ending,  destructive,  yet  in- 

80 


ESSAYS 

spiring  and  creating  force,  and  the  rain- 
bow is  the  divided  ray  of  the  intolerably 
keen  white  light  of  truth,  as  it  is  reflected 
in  and  overhangs  the  monuments  of  life. 
Shelley  expresses  exactly  the  same 
thought  in  a  different  image,  where  he 
says,  in  Adonais:  'Xife  like  a  dome  of 
many  colored  glass  stains  the  white  ra- 
diance of  eternity."  In  the  second  part 
of  Faust  we  find  in  one  of  the  songs  of 
the  chorus  of  the  maidens : 

"Given  again  to  the  daylight  are  we 
Persons,  no  more  'tis  true 
We  feel  it  and  know  it. 
But  to  Hades  return  we  never ! 
Nature  the  ever  living 
Makes  to  us  spirits 
Validest  claim,  and  we  to  her  also." 

Taylor  says  of  these  lines :  "The  twelve 
Maidens  of  the  Chorus  divide  themselves 
into  four  groups,  relinquish  their  human 
forms  and  enter  into  the  being  of  trees, 
echos,  brooks  and  vineyards.  Goethe  was 
so  well  satisfied  with  this  disposition  of 
an  antique  feature,  for  which  there  seems 
to  be  no  place  in  the  romantic  world,  that 

8i 


ESSAYS 

we  can  hardly  be  mistaken  as  to  his  de- 
sign. The  transfusion  of  Nature  with  a 
human  sympathy  belongs  exclusively  to 
modern  literature." 

It  is  not  the  dryad  but  the  tree  itself, 
not  the  creed  but  the  spirit  of  the  moun- 
tain which  speaks  to  us  now.  We  have 
lost  the  fascinating  existence  of  ancient 
fable  in  their  human  forms,  but  Nature, 
then  their  lifeless  dwelling,  now  breathes 
and  throbs  with  more  than  their  life,  for 
we  have  clothed  her  in  the  garments  of 
our  own  emotion  and  aspiration. 

No  fairy  tale  of  nymph  or  dryad  can 
compare  in  wonder  with  the  transfigura- 
tion which  the  woods  themselves  reveal  to 
us,  in  the  ever-returning  birth,  death  and 
resurrection  of  her  changing  forms. 
Again  in  the  second  part  of  Faust,  Thales, 
the  Greek  philosopher  and  mathematician, 
who  thought,  more  than  three  hundred 
years  before  Christ,  that  "All  things  were 
instinct  with  life,"  is  made  to  say: 

"Nature,  the  living  current  of  her  powers 
was  never  bound  to  day  and  night 
and  hours : 

82 


ESSAYS 

She  makes  each  form  by  rules  that  never 

fail, 
And  'tis  not  force  even  on  a  mighty  scale." 

These  lines  express  Goethe's  scientific 
creed.  In  1831  Goethe  said:  ''The  older 
I  grow  the  more  surely  I  rely  on  that  law 
by  which  the  rose  and  the  lily  blossom." 
But  nowhere  is  Goethe's  idea  of  Nature 
so  finely  expressed  as  in  the  Proemium  to 
God  and  the  World : 

**What  were  the  God,  who  sat  outside  to 
scan 

The  spheres,  that  'neath  His  circling  fing- 
ers ran? 

God  dwells  within  and  moves  the  world 
and  moulds 

Himself  and  Nature  in  one  form  enfolds. 

^If  ^f  ^Sf  ^tf  ^tf  ^tf  ^tf 

Thus  all  that  lives  in  Him  and  breathes 

and  is, 
Shall  ne'er  His  puissance,  ne'er  His  spirit 

miss." 

Emerson. 

Our  own  philosopher  and  poet,  Emer- 
son, seems  at  times    to    touch    the    very 

83 


ESSAYS 

spirit  and  pulse  of  Nature,  and  we  feel 
her  throbbing  hfe  in  his  epigramatic  hues. 
In  Wood  Notes  he  tells  the  story  of  evo- 
lution : 

*'To  the  open  ear  it  sings 

Sweet  the  genesis  of  things: 

Of  tendency  through  endless  ages 

Of  Star-dust  and  star-pilgrimfnages, 

Of  rounded  worlds,  of  space  and  time, 

Of  the  old  floods'  subsiding  slime. 

Of  chemic  matter,  force  and  form, 

Of  poles  and  powers,  cold,  wet  and  warm, 

The  rushing  metamorphosis 

Dissolving  all  that  fixture  is. 

For  Nature  beats  in  perfect  tune, 

And  rounds  with  rhyme  her  every  rume. 

Whether  she  work  in  land  or  sea. 

Or  hide  under  ground  her  alchemy. 

The  wood  is  wiser  far  than  thou. 

The  wood  and  wave  each  other  know. 

Not  unrelated,  unaffied. 

But  to  each  thought  and  thing  allied, 

Is  perfect  Nature's  every  part. 

Rooted  in  the  mighty  heart." 

84 


ESSAYS 

Browning, 

Among  our  modern  poets,  none  have 
sung  the  truth  revealed  by  Science  and 
the  metaphysical  and  intimate  relation  of 
spirit  and  matter  more  splendidly  than 
Robert  Browning.  It  pervades  all  he  says 
like  a  fine  ethereal  fire,  whose  glow  lights 
up  the  dim  regions  of  futurity  and  gives 
him  those  broad  views  of  love  and  faith 
which  are  rooted  deep  in  infinity.  He  too 
based  his  hopes  of  man's  ultimate  perfec- 
tion and  immortality  on  that  law  which 
holds  the  worlds  in  their  orbits  and  tints 
the  smallest  flower.  Browning  was  one 
who  had  with  great  care,  deep  thought 
and  conscientious  research,  joined  the  ever 
enlarging  ranks  of  those  modern  thinkers 
who  are  striving  to  bring  harmony  out  of 
chaos,  chaos  caused  by  the  rapid  change 
in  the  last  half  century  of  old  landmarks, 
old  ideals.  The  influx  of  positive  knowl- 
edge in  place  of  authority  and  vulgar  em- 
piricism, and  the  persistent  research  into 
the  causes  of  all  phenomena,  physical  or 
spiritual,  mark  our  era.  Close  upon  the 
heels  of  this  age  of  analysis  will  follow  a 

85 


ESSAYS 

still  more  glorious  age  of  synthesis,  whose 
dawn  we  already  see  creeping  slowly  over 
the  horizon.  In  Paracelsus,  Browning 
thus  traces  the  law  of  evolution  of  pro- 
gression : 

"Hints  and  previsions  of  which  faculties, 
Are  strewn  confusedly  everywhere  about 
The    inferior   natures,    and   all   lead   up 

higher, 
All  shape  out  dimly  the  superior  race. 
The  heir  of  hopes  too  fair  to  turn  out 

false. 
And  man  appears  at  last.    So  far  the  seal 
Is  put  on  life;  one  stage  of  being  com- 
plete. 
One   scheme   wound  up:    and  from   the 

grand  result 
A  supplementary  reflux  of  light. 
Illustrates  all  the  inferior  grades,  explains 
Each  back  step  in  the  circle.    Not  alone 
For  their  possessor  dawn  those  qualities, 
But  the  new  glory  mixes  with  the  heaven 
And  earth;  man,  once  descried,  imprints 

forever 
His  presence  on  all  lifeless  things:  the 
winds 

86 


ESSAYS 

Are  henceforth  voices,  waiHng  or  a  shout, 
A  querulous  mutter  or  a  quick  gay  laugh, 
Never  a  senseless  gust  now  man  is  born." 
In  Asolando,  Browning's  last  work,  we 
find  the  ripened  thought  of  his  eighty 
years  expressed  in  a  short  poem  called 
^'Reverie" : 

"I  truly  am,  at  last! 
For  a  veil  is  rent  between 
Me  and  the  truth  which  passed 
Fitful,  half  guessed,  half  seen, 
Grasped  at — not  gained,  held  fast. 

I  for  my  race  and  me 
Shall  apprehend  life's  Law: 
In  the  legend  of  man  shall  »ee 
Writ  large  what  small  I  saw 
In  my  life's  tale, — both  agree. 

All  is  effect  of  cause: 
As  it  would,  has  willed  and  done 
Power :   And  my  mind's  applause 
Goes,  passing  laws  each  one. 
To  Omnipotence,  lord  of  laws. 

I  have  Faith  such  end  shall  be : 
From  the  first,  Power  was — I  knew. 

87 


ESSAYS 

Life  has  made  clear  to  me 
That,  strive  but  for  closer  view, 
Love  were  as  plain  to  see. 

As  the  record  from  youth  to  age 

Of  my  own,  the  single  soul, 

So  the  world's  wide  Book:     One  page 

Deciphered  explains  the  whole 

Of  our  common  heritage.'* 

Homer, 

The  limits  of  this  paper  will  not  admit 
of  an  exhaustive  survey  of  the  objective 
poets,  of  whom  Homer  is  the  ancient  rep- 
resentative, as  Shakespeare  is  the  modern. 
The  Greeks  delighted  in  the  sunny  out- 
ward manifestation  of  Nature,  not  her 
mysterious  depths.  The  special  and  dis- 
tinctive office  of  the  poet  in  ancient  times 
was  to  give  delight;  to  recount  to  eager 
listeners  heroic,  valorous  deeds  of  godlike 
men. 

Life  was  divided  into  good  and  evil 
without  complexity;  subjective  musings 
were  not  dreamed  of;  controversies  be- 
tween Religion  and  Science  were  un- 
known; doubt  had  not  been  born  in  the 

88 


ESSAYS 

Homeric  time;  the  eternal  "Why"  had  not 
entered  the  poet's  thought  to  breed  its 
legions  of  mianswerables.  It  was  reflec- 
tion that  changed  the  spirit  of  freedom 
and  simplicity  of  the  Greeks.  In  Homer 
we  are  borne  along  as  on  a  swift  current 
by  his  matchless  descriptions,  splendid 
narration  of  events  rapidly  succeeding 
each  other,  by  his  characters,  perfectly 
drawn  and  clearly  defined,  and  through 
all  a  diversity  and  simplicity  which  has 
been  the  marvel  and  delight  of  ages.  But 
though  possessing  vivid  and  boundless  im- 
agination, nowhere  does  he  show  any  sign 
of  that  inward  searching,  that  quest  for 
the  hidden  meaning  of  things.  Gladstone 
says  of  Homer: 

"Of  the  impersonated  unseen  no  poet 
has  made  such  efTective  employment;  of 
the  unseen,  except  as  connected  with  im- 
personation, he  never,  I  think,  makes  use, 
unless  on  two  occasions,  once  when  the 
ships  of  the  Phaiakes  (Phi-a-kes)  are 
swift  as  a  wing  or  as  a  thought,  and  the 
other  where  he  compares  the  agitated 
mind  of  Hera  with  the  quickened  intclli- 

89 


ESSAYS 

gence  of  a  man  stimulated  and  informed 
by  travel." 

How  different  the  modern  poet;  every 
line  is  an  invocation  to  the  unseen,  every 
thought  an  interrogation,  every  sign  an 
appeal  for  light.  Yet  the  epic  of  the  fu- 
ture will  embody  the  grand  onward  march 
of  progressive  thought  and  life,  and  must 
find  its  final  reconciliation  in  Law  and 
Love. 

Conclusion, 

What  was  the  spirit  of  Nature  to  which 
Shelley  bowed  his  head  with  the  rever- 
ence of  an  idolator?  It  was  the  great 
first  cause  which  lies  back  of  all  phenom- 
ena, material  and  spiritual,  which  men 
have  worshiped  under  different  names 
and  different  forms  since  the  world's  re- 
lief from  the  barbarism  of  base  fear,  be- 
ginning with  reverence  for  something 
above  him,  which  in  the  evolution  of 
thought  finds  its  best  expression  in  the 
reverence  for  one's  self  or  the  soul  of 
man,  as  the  highest  creation,  the  divine 
and  immortal. 

He  recognized  that  all  beauty,  all  har- 

90 


ESSAYS 

mony  is  the  direct  result  of  a  cause  inde- 
finable, but  a  natural  development  and  se- 
quence, the  secret  of  which  he  is  ever 
striving  to  find. 

A  keen  poetic  insight  v^hich  flashes 
forth  in  revelations  of  the  future,  whose 
reverberations  will  roll  down  the  coming 
centuries  to  kindle  to  renewed  activity 
men's  thoughts  and  purposes  and  clarify 
the  atmosphere  of  gross  materiality. 

Shelley's  love  of  Nature  was  not  alone 
sensuous,  though  his  ear  thrilled  to  every 
vibration  of  sound  and  his  eye  delighted 
in  every  tint  of  beauty.  He  found  a  par- 
tial answer  at  least  to  his  questionings, 
and  his  aspirations. 

His  views  of  Nature,  though  alien  to  his 
own  time,  have  been  largely  verified  by 
modern  Science.  There  was  a  quality  in 
the  man  and  his  poems  akin  to  Nature, 
vast,  luminous,  tremulous  with  light  in- 
tangible, impalpable. 

But  his  music  is  permanent,  for  he  is 
allied  to  that  small  choir  of  choice  spirits 
who  are  the  harbingers  of  the  perfecti- 
bility of  the  human  race.  In  his  own  beau- 
tiful words  we  may  say: 

91 


ESSAYS 

''Mourn  not  for  Adonais.    Thou 

Young  Dawn, 

Turn  all  thy  dews  to  splendor,  for 

From  Thee 

The  spirit  thou  lamentest  is 

Not  gone. 

He  is  made  one  with  Nature ! 

There  is  heard 

His  voice  in  all  her  music. 

From  the  moan  of  thunder 

To  the  song  of  the  night's  sweet  bird. 

The  splendors  of  the  firmament 

Of  time 

May  be  eclipsed,  but  are 

Extinguished  not: 

Like  stars  to  their  appointed  height 

They  climb. 

And  death  is  a  low  mist  which 

Cannot  blot 

The  brightness  it  may  veil  when 

Lofty  thought 

Lifts  a  young  heart  above  its  mortal  lair, 

And  Life  and  love  contend  in  it,  for  what 

Shall  be  its  earthly  doom,  the  dead  live 

there 
And  move  like  winds  of  light  on  dark  and 

stormy  air." 

92 


i 


THOUGHT,  THE  PARENT  OF  ORIG- 
INALITY 


THOUGHT,  THE  PARENT  OF 
ORIGINALITY. 

EACH  age  must  write  its  own  books. 
Meek  young  men  grow  up  in 
libraries,  believing  it  their  duty 
to  accept  the  views  which  Cicero,  which 
Locke,  which  Bacon  have  given;  forget- 
ful that  Cicero,  Locke  and  Bacon  were 
only  young  men  in  libraries  when  they 
wrote  these  books." — Emerson. 

He  who  accepts  the  theory,  or  truth, 
full-fledged,  all  worked  out  in  detail,  from 
the  brain  of  another,  loses  very  much, 
even  though  he  may  comprehend  the  thing 
perfectly  and  grasp  it  wholly.  When  man 
works  out  his  own  problems  he  puts  into 
the  old  truth  (for  truth  is  never  new) 
that  which  gives  it  fresh  life  and  vigor. 
He  reclothes  it  with  that  fine  something 
which  is  a  part  of  his  own  being.  The 
truths  underlying  the  Christian  religion, 
and  the  Platonic  philosophy,  were  before 

95 


ESSAYS 

Christ  or  Plato;  for  truth,  hke  law,  was, 
is,  and  ever  will  be.  But  these  minds, 
grasping  the  germinal  truths,  moulded 
them  into  form  and  gave  them  palpable 
existence.  The  glory  of  Jesus  and  Plato 
is  the  weaving  of  their  spirit  in  and 
through  ^hese  truths,  making  them  lu- 
minous to  the  world.  Just  this  touch  of 
individuality  is  the  secret  of  all  creative 
work,  and  is  what  we  call  genius.  The 
sculptor's  ideal,  the  artist's  spirit,  the 
fires  of  divine  revelation  it  is  which  makes 
marble  speak,  canvas  glow,  music  thrill 
and  poetry  stir.  The  difference  between 
artistic  and  inartistic  work  is  the  differ- 
ence in  individual  power  and  insight.  This 
it  is  which  gives  permanence  and  tenacity 
to  all  art  creation  and  is  seen  in  all  effort 
from  the  simplest  forms  of  material  work- 
manship to  man's  highest  conception  of 
law  and  order  in  the  universe  of  God. 
Genius  is  always  accompanied  by  his  twin 
brother — independent  individuality — and 
these  two  are  linked  wdth  a  third — mar- 
velous courage.  The  genius  who  announ- 
ces absolute  truth  is  usually  fortified  by 
a  moral  courage  as  wonderful  as  the  crea- 

96 


ESSAYS 

tive  faculty  itself.  Genius  is  not  given  to 
all  men,  but  to  each  is  given  a  talent,  and 
it  is  a  sacred  duty  for  each  one  to  use  this 
talent  and  to  think  and  act  for  himself,  for 
he  is  not  an  integral,  but  a  part  of  the 
whole  brotherhood  of  humanity,  a  link  in 
the  endless  chain  of  being.  Whether  this 
thought  be  helpful  and  luminous  to  others, 
gathering  its  followers  and  lending  its  ra- 
diance, or  remains  within  the  quiet  limits 
of  one*s  own  soul  as  guide  and  light,  mat- 
ters not;  we  have  been  true  to  ourselves 
and  true  to  a  great  ethical  principle.  Any- 
thing short  of  this  individual  effort  is 
either  stolen,  borrowed  or  imitated.  A 
modern  writer  says:  ''The  true  original 
genius  does  not  kick  out  of  the  traces  of 
the  universe,  but  heroically  carries  it  for- 
ward; not  imitating  the  old,  but  trans- 
forming into  it  the  new,  wherein  lies  just 
his  originality." 

St.  Augustine  says:  "Christianity  has 
existed  since  time  or  the  world  began. 
Christ's  coming  gave  to  the  principles  he 
advocated  the  name  it  now  bears."  To 
accept  crystalized  truth  without  knowing 
anything  about  the  wonderful  process  of 

97 


ESSAYS 

crystalization  may  be  a  mental  pleasure, 
but  is  lacking  in  that  keener,  finer  joy 
which  one  may  experience  who  has  him- 
self traced  each  step  in  the  crystalization. 
All  may  have  a  simple  appreciation  of  the 
general  phenomena  of  the  sun,  moon  and 
stars,  but  how  grand  is  the  conception  of 
the  universe!  Man  should  use  his  brain, 
chemicals,  reason  and  analysis  to  disin- 
tegrate the  atoms  of  truth  or  thought,  and 
then  build  up  for  himself;  then  the  final 
synthesis  will  have  a  fullness,  a  roundness, 
a  clearness  that  stamps  at  once  the  origi- 
nal thinker  from  the  mere  imitator. 

To  arrive  at  the  truth  we  should  begin 
by  slaying  the  dragons,  the  negatives,  as 
they  arise  successively  in  the  mind;  when 
this  labor  has  been  accomplished,  and 
there  are  no  more  dragons  to  slay,  the 
mind  will  be  filled  with  a  radiant  sunshine 
of  affirmative.  Then  are  we  truly  placed. 
Then  have  we  truly  found  ourselves.  If 
we  leave  the  mind  unsettled,  chaotic,  we 
not  only  destroy  the  pleasure  an  unvvaver- 
ing  affirmative  gives,  but  we  destroy  its 
efficacy  as  a  guiding  principle  of  life, 
which  is  the  chief  object  of  all  truth  or 

98 


ESSAYS 

knowledge.  The  healthiest  attitude  of  the 
mind  is  one  of  questioning.  There  are 
many  questions  which  in  their  nature  can- 
not be  answered  with  entire  satisfaction; 
these  have  been  most  truly  named — the 
great  "unknowables.''  Here  we  reach  our 
limitations,  but  until  we  have  sounded 
with  our  plummet  every  question  that 
arises  for  us,  whether  this  plumb-line  be 
long  or  short,  it  is  our  most  sacred  duty 
and  blessed  privilege  to  use  it. 

The  perceptive  genius,  or  man  of  talent, 
may  be  a  brilliant,  shining  light,  but  he 
has  no  permanency,  excepting  as  he  be- 
comes identified  with  some  idea  of  another. 
He  is  the  Prophet  that  bears  the  word  to 
the  people.  Perception  is  often  mistaken 
for  creation.  What  we  have  an  undoubted 
right  to  is  this :  We  may  see,  and  adore ; 
and  far  better  still  if  we  catch  something 
of  the  divine  aspiration  and  fervor  which 
has  made  this  creation  possible;  if  we  be 
induced  to  "go  and  do  likewise,''  this  art 
creation  has  spoken  its  best  lesson  to  us. 
Inspiration  to  effort  is  the  lesson  all  true 
art  teaches.  This  is  not  a  discouraging 
view;  it  simply  recognizes  individual  limi- 

99 


ESSAYS 

tations  and  capacities,  and  without  such 
intelHgent  recognition  no  true  work  can 
be  accomplished. 

We  may  accept  crystaHzations  of 
thought  in  the  same  spirit  that  we  accept 
a  work  of  plastic  art.  It  is  ours  to  emu- 
late and  enjoy,  but  if  we  receive  from  it 
only  a  passing  gratification,  which  may  be 
coldly  intellectual  or  warmly  sensuous, 
then  that  thought  has  not  spoken  its  best 
word  to  us.  What  is  the  highest  word 
spoken  to  us  by  all  art  products?  It  is 
this:  If  we  are  drawn  towards  the  art- 
ist's ideal;  if  we  apprehend  the  meaning 
and  content  of  the  work,  and  if  we  feel 
this  so  strongly  that  we  shall  turn  from  it 
with  longing  and  desire  to  attain  also  to 
some  ideal — not  necessarily  to  this  par- 
ticular expression  of  an  ideal,  but  to  some 
one;  if  we  are  touched  by  the  fires  of  the 
artist's  aspiration,  and  desire  to  emulate 
his  achievements,  and  are  touched  so  sin- 
cerely, so  fervently,  deeply  that  we  are 
induced  to  press  forward  with  new  energy, 
new  zeal,  new  resolve,  new  activity  into 
some  field  of  labor  peculiarly  our  own, 
then,  and  not  until  then,  has  this  thought, 

lOO 


ESSAYS 

or  this  art  creation,  spoken  to  us  from  its 
highest  to  our  highest.  What  we  may 
call  the  appreciative  genfus,  while  not  the 
highest,  differs  greatly^ffom'  the  common- 
place, and  to  these  origipal'-gehiil'e'owes 
much ;  it  is  to  these  '  tHat  the  seer-few 
speak.  It  is  they  who  carry  down  the 
ages  the  word  or  work  of  the  masters. 
"There  are  leaders  and  followers,"  and  it 
is  to  this  large  class  of  appreciative  "fol- 
lowers" that  we  owe  tradition.  Tradition 
is  born  of  perception  and  appreciation, 
and  to  tradition  we  owe  history.  Genius 
alone  could  not  make  history,  though  it 
is  the  source  of  all  history.  There  is  a 
vast  gulf  between  a  man  of  talent  and  the 
commonplace;  for  the  latter  cannot  even 
experience  vicariously  the  inspiration,  or 
aspiration,  of  another.  These  are  unim- 
aginative, sluggish,  dull,  unthinking ;  they 
are  the  "passive  souls" — who  dwell  not 
even  in  the  Inferno,  but  remain  in  Limbo, 
"who  by  not  doing,  not  by  doing,  lost." 
All  great  minds  have  been  free  and  origi- 
nal thinkers.  All  men  who  have  given 
new  impulses  and  movements  to  the  world- 
spirit.     "In  the  spiritual  order,  as  in  the 

JOI 


ESSAYS 

physical,  to  live  is  to  change;  to  cease  to 
change  is  to  cease  to  live."  To  verify  this 
truth  -we  ha^e  only  ro  glance  backward 
over  the  past  andtecall  the  noble  Socrates 
of-'  old;  the-  patfent  -Galileo,  the  mighty 
Luther,  the  steadfast  Giordano  Bruno,  the 
belligerent  Savanarola,  and  all  the  long 
line  of  martyrs  that  have  yielded  up  their 
lives  for  their  thought. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  world's  Christs 
have  been  given  supernatural  births,  for 
each  has  stood  among  the  common  masses 
of  humanity  around  him,  as  solitary  moun- 
tain upon  a  vast  plain.  So  out  of  the  gen- 
eral order  of  the  universe  do  they  seem, 
that  in  ignorance  and  superstition  man- 
kind has  resorted  to  the  supernatural  to 
account  for  their  existence,  and  these 
seers,  conscious  of  the  divinity  of  the 
truths  they  bear,  accept  metaphorically 
what  is  meant  literally.  This,  acting  upon 
the  minds  of  their  followers,  coupled  with 
the  worship  inherent  in  human  nature, 
which  rejoices  in  finding  an  incarnation 
of  its  ideals,  clothes  these  saviors  in  gar- 
ments woven  wholly  of  the  imagination, 
and  their  words,  only  dimly  or  partially 

1 02 


ESSAYS 

understood,  are  given  a  meaning  far  dif- 
ferent from  that  intended.  When  Christ 
said:  "I  and  my  Father  are  one,"  he  did 
not  mean  it  in  the  Hteral  sense,  but  in  the 
sense  of  the  divinity  of  truth,  in  which  all 
mankind  are  one  with  the  Father,  when 
they  comprehend  His  Divine  purpose  and 
obey  His  Divine  commands.  After  eight- 
een centuries  of  Christian  precepts  hu- 
manity has  not  yet  risen  even  to  the  just 
conception  of  Christ's  teachings,  much 
less  to  living  these  truths.  It  has  taken 
eighteen  centuries  for  mankind  to  gather 
the  kernel  and  spirit  of  Christ's  teachings 
and  to  fully  realize  the  one  grand  central 
truth  He  came  to  proclaim,  namely,  the 
Divine  human  and  the  human  Divinity. 

Why  Christ,  the  child  of  simple,  loving 
parents,  born  in  quiet  Nazareth  town, 
should  have  seen,  comprehended  and 
solved  the  problems  of  life  around  Him, 
and  given  us  those  universal  principles 
which  hold  the  essence  of  ethical  life  for 
all  time  is  an  interesting  question,  and  is 
not  answered  by  any  theory  of  immacu- 
late conception  or  supernatural  birth. 
Why  He  carried  the  world's  sorrow  and 

103 


ESSAYS 

pathos  in  His  heart,  was  bowed  with  the 
weight  of  its  sin,  yearned  over  it  with  a 
deep  and  tender  love,  and  gladly  yielded 
up  His  life  for  this  love;  why  His  brood- 
ing spirit  should  have  seen,  as  no  eye  had 
ever  before  seen  with  such  sun-lit  clear- 
ness, such  supernal  wisdom,  such  radiant, 
far-reaching  vision,  must  ever  fill  us  with 
wonder  and  admiration.  But  this  one 
truth  is  apparent  in  the  life  of  Christ  as 
of  others.  Had  Christ  followed  the  tra- 
ditions of  His  race,  had  He  walked  in  the 
familiar  and  beaten  paths  of  His  ances- 
tors, had  He  been  wedded  to  the  forms 
and  ceremonies  of  His  people,  or  had 
yielded  Himself  unthinkingly  to  His  en- 
vironment, had  not  torn  Himself  away 
from  the  temptation  to  glide  smoothly 
with  the  popular  tide.  He  would  never 
have  so  stirred  the  waters  of  life  anew 
for  mankind.  Why  Dante,  ''the  articulate 
voice  of  ten  silent  centuries,"  should  speak 
those  clarion  notes  that  still  echo  down 
the  centuries  and  shall  be  heard  through 
long  ages  to  come;  why  this  somber-vis- 
aged,  far-seeing  genius  beheld  the  soul's 
journey  and  epitomized  it  in  that  match- 

104 


ESSAYS 

less  allegory  where  all,  if  they  will  but 
look,  may  see  the  reflex  of  themselves,  is 
answered,  partly  at  least,  by  the  fact  that 
he  thought  long  and  deeply,  and  independ- 
ently upon  the  problems  of  life  and  death, 
sin  and  the  judgment,  and  took  no  other 
man's  view  of  life  ,  political,  social  or 
moral. 

To  each  individual  is  given  some  task 
to  perform,  some  problem  to  solve,  which, 
if  he  rightly  and  bravely  enunciate,  first 
making  clear  to  his  own  mind,  will  leave 
the  world  brighter  and  better  for  his  hav- 
ing been.  The  true  attitude  of  mind,  and 
the  only  one  in  which  man  can  do  noble 
and  efficient  work,  is  absolute  freedom  of 
thought.  This  is  what  our  age  persist- 
ently demands  and  what  freedom  means. 
It  is  what  our  age  is  working  out  in  its 
practical  and  spiritual  affairs,  and  is  be- 
ing demonstrated  every  day  in  intellectual, 
political  and  social  life.  This  freedom  of 
thought  will  not  in  the  future,  as  it  has 
so  often  in  the  past,  mean  banishment,  re- 
vilement,  martyrdom  and  death.  True 
freedom  will  be  tolerant,  broad,  all-em- 
bracing,   all-benevolent,    all-loving,    dis- 

105 


ESSAYS 

carding  nothing  in  the  past  which  has 
helped  mankind  in  its  progress,  and  haiHng 
with  outstretched  arms  all  that  is  new, 
true  and  beautiful. 


io6 


PRAYER 


PRAYER. 


"The  self-same  moment  I  could  pray. 
And  from  my  neck  so  free 

The  Albatross  fell  off,  and  sank 
Like  lead  into  the  sea." 

*'He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  best 
All  things,  both  great  and  small, 

For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all." 


IT  would  seem  strange  to  any  truly 
thoughtful  person  that  the  question 
of  the  use  and  beauty  of  prayer 
should  be  a  debatable  subject,  did  we  not 
remember  the  origin  and  low  conception 
of  prayer  which  obtained  in  the  earlier 
ages,  and  which  even  to-day  are  not  en- 
tirely eradicated  from  our  religious  life. 
The  begging  for  some  favor  of  the  All- 
Wise  Creator,  some  petty  desire  to  be 
granted,  some  selfish  wish  to  be  fulfilled, 
seems  to  us  a  shocking  conception  of 
prayer.  But  there  is  a  conception  of 
prayer  which  makes  it  at  once  helpful, 
real  and  permanent. 

109 


ESSAYS 

The  necessity  for  prayer  in  the  human 
soul  in  moments  of  its  highest  aspiration, 
deepest  sorrow,  or  keenest  ecstasy,  is  its 
own  justification,  and  one  proof  that 
prayer  will  be  satisfactorily  answered, 
though  by  no  means  answered  always  as 
we,  with  our  finite  vision,  would  wish. 

The  materialistic  school  would  banish 
prayer  entirely  or  relegate  it  to  a  purely 
scientific  field.  They  cannot  deny  the  re- 
flex action,  but  would  not  assign  to  it  any 
higher  possibilities.  Reflex  action  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  elements  of  true  prayer, 
because  any  efifort  of  the  soul  reaching 
forth  in  unselfish  desire  lifts  it  into  a 
higher  atmosphere,  and  this  reflex  action 
of  the  mind  upon  itself  elevates  and  en- 
nobles. But  this  is  not  all.  We  have 
learned  that  the  Inferno  is  a  state  of 
mind;  that  Heaven  is  within  us,  and  not 
without;  and  that  prayer  is  an  attitude  of 
the  soul,  not  a  begging  for  some  material 
blessing.  Prayer,  then,  is  an  attitude  of 
the  soul.  Let  us  remember  this,  and  see 
if  we  may  learn  how  it  is  possible  to  at- 
tain this  attitude.  One  may  also  say  that 
prayer  is  an  attitude  of  the  mind,  for  no 

no 


ESSAYS 

soul  groveling  in  low  or  sordid  desires  can 
be  said  to  be  prayerful,  and  because,  in 
its  reaching  upwards  to  the  source  of  all 
things  it  touches  the  Infinite.  It  gives 
breadth  to  character,  because  it  embraces 
in  its  beautiful  spirit  all  sweet  human  re- 
lations and  experiences,  and  remains  with 
the  soul,  as  one  of  its  eternal  possessions. 
And  it  gives  depth,  because  the  awakened 
mind  reaches  into  the  very  heart  of  the  uni- 
verse, seeking  there  the  laws  of  its  being. 
Prayer  follows  the  law  of  growth  and 
development,  as  other  attributes  of  the 
mind.  If  we  use  our  reasoning  faculties 
over  a  mathematical  problem  seriously, 
persistently,  knowledge  will  shine  in  upon 
our  understanding,  and  reveal  to  us  the 
truth  we  seek,  and  this  seeming  miracle  is 
repeated  again  and  again  in  our  experi- 
ence. It  is  ever  the  same  wonderful  rev- 
elation, and  the  joy  we  feel  when  the 
light  leaps  up  in  our  minds,  like  a  flash 
of  lightning,  revealing  the  truth  that  was 
before  hidden — this  is  of  itself  enough  to 
teach  us  to  have  faith  that  every  effort  in 
the  right  direction  will,  sooner  or  later,  be 
rewarded,  as   the  solution  of  a  mathe- 

III 


ESSAYS 

matical  problem  is.  If  a  muscle  of  our 
arm  be  weak  and  feeble,  and  we  use  it 
gently,  quietly,  continuously,  obeying  at 
the  same  time  the  laws  of  physical  well 
being,  growth,  strength  and  use  will  come 
to  the  enfeebled  member. 

We  have  also  a  spiritual  faculty  of  the 
mind.  This  spiritual  faculty,  if  developed 
and  rightly  used,  and  in  that  mood  which 
we  call  prayerful,  meaning  simply  a  reach- 
ing forth  and  upward  to  the  source  of  all 
light,  in  an  attitude  of  childlike  receptivity 
and  earnest  effort,  such  prayer  will  be  re- 
warded ;  by  what  laws  we  do  not  now  know, 
but  an  answer  will  come,  in  the  form  of 
clearer  insight,  greater  moral  strength, 
heavenly  comfort,  and  possible  joy. 

Prayer  is  the  activity  of  the  spiritual 
part  of  our  nature,  and  is  doubtless  gov- 
erned by  fixed  and  immutable  laws,  just 
as  the  physical  and  mental  nature  of  man 
are  governed  by  such  laws. 

It  matters  little  that  we  cannot  define 
or  prove  the  existence  of  the  spiritual  or- 
gans, which  are  co-related  to  this  spiritual 
function.  But  we  know,  through  the  ne- 
cessity in  our  own  being  and  by  faith,  cor- 

112 


ESSAYS 

roborated  by  the  history  of  man's  spiritual 
growth  throughout  the  world,  and  in  all 
ages,  verified  by  observation  and  experi- 
ence, that  such  organs  and  such  functions 
must  exist. 

The  need  for  prayer  in  the  human  soul 
is  its  own  justification  for  being,  and  is 
common  to  the  whole  race  of  mankind, 
partaking  in  the  lower  phases  of  the  nature 
of  fear,  begging  and  pleading,  and  in  the 
higher  of  worship,  praise  and  rejoicing. 

The  first  requisite  for  a  true  attitude  of 
prayer  is  to  gird  one's  self  with  the  ''rush 
of  humility,"  and  an  honest  belief  that  wt 
deserve  the  sufferings  brought  or  inflicted 
upon  us,  and  a  determination  not  to  shrink 
or  run  away  from  conflict,  nor  to  be 
crushed  by  opposing  forces ;  but  a  rational 
acceptance  of  consequences,  and  an  ear- 
nest desire  that  through  this  lacerating 
strife  wisdom  and  holiness  shall  become 
ours. 

To  receive  true  blessedness  through 
prayer  one  must  drink  of  the  waters  of 
Lethe,  that  Lethe  "Whither  to  lave  them- 
selves the  spirits  go,  whose  blame  hath 
been  by  penitence  removed."    And  this  is 

113 


ESSAYS 

not  the  Lethe  of  the  Hindoo  Nirvana,  but 
a  continued  and  never-ending  series  of 
transmigrations  from  our  lower  selves  to 
our  higher  selves,  pressing  on  from  height 
to  height,  until,  having  passed  through  the 
Inferno  and  Purgatorio,  we  reach  the  di- 
vine heights  of  Paradiso,  where  shine  the 
white  lights  of  serenity  and  peace.  Here 
"the  word  becomes  flesh"  and  the  incar- 
nation a  reality. 

To  make  this  attitude  of  mind  habitual, 
we  should  begin  with  the  child  at  the  tend- 
erest  age.  Teach  him  to  let  the  mind,  in 
some  quiet  hour  each  day,  return  in  upon 
itself,  to  become  self-searching,  to  bring 
the  mind  to  feel  thankfulness  for  blessings 
received,  sorrow  for  wrong-doing,  and 
there  rekindle  the  fires  of  aspiration.  Let 
him  be  taught  to  carry  all  its  conflicts,  all 
its  passions,  all  its  hopes,  to  this  internal 
subjective  tribunal,  this  sacred  altar,  with 
fires  ever  burning  ready  for  the  sacrifice, 
the  pleading  and  the  praise.  The  sacrifice 
of  all  selfishness,  the  pleading  for  all  good, 
the  praise  and  thankfulness  for  all  joy. 
We  may,  if  we  choose,  teach  the  child  to 
discard  the  material  altar,  built  of  wood 

114 


ESSAYS 

and  stone,  or  covered  with  cloth  of  gold, 
to  which  the  ancients  brought  peace  offer- 
ings of  slaughtered  goats  and  rams,  of 
sweet  herbs,  and  of  those  things  most 
precious  to  them.  Nor  is  it  altars  of  pol- 
ished wood,  nor  fine  vestments,  nor  sooth- 
ing music,  nor  aesthetic  coloring,  nor  pol- 
ished rhetoric,  the  heart,  and  that  the  true 
oil  to  keep  the  fires  burning  is  the  sacrifice 
of  selfish  desires  and  gross  passions. 
Through  this  action  will  be  developed  a 
clearer  consciousness  of  right  and  the 
ability  to  seize  quickly  the  best  and  the 
true,  which  will  in  time  become  habitual, 
and  finally  there  will  grow  up,  in  the  ex- 
panding soul,  that  keener  insight  into 
what  are  the  real  and  eternal  verities,  and 
a  nearness  to  all  that  is  most  desirable  and 
beautiful  in  life.  And  later  will  come  that 
consciousness  and  knowledge  of  the  di- 
vine purposes,  and  the  close  fellowship 
with  God,  which,  in  its  final  synthesis,  is 
unity  with  God,  and  the  recognition  of  the 
divinity  and  brotherhood  of  mankind. 
This  preparation  would  afford  an  impreg- 
nable fortress  against  sin  and  temptation, 
because  this  habitual  attitude  of  the  mind 

115 


ESSAYS 

would  at  once  repel  all  sudden  attacks  of 
evil,  which  we  have  most  cause  to  dread. 

The  good  effect  of  a  rational  under- 
standing of  the  meaning  and  purpose  of 
prayer  is  illustrated  by  a  fact  from  life. 
Two  little  boys  had  a  quarrel.  Neither 
would  acknowledge  that  he  was  in  the 
wrong,  nor  would  they  speak  to  each  other 
for  many  weeks.  One  little  fellow  told 
his  mother,  "I  have  not  repeated  the  whole 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer   since  my  quarrel 

with  G .    I  did  not  and  could  not  say 

'Forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive 
those  who  trespass  against  us.'  "  But 
finally,  when  he  had  brought  himself  to 
say  those  lines  feelingly  and  truly,  he  was 
the  first  to  speak,  and  the  breach  was 
healed.  Here  was  the  prayer  and  here  the 
answer  to  prayer;  whether  by  reflex  ac- 
tion, the  interposition  of  Providence,  or  the 
action  of  the  will  alone,  it  matters  little; 
the  result  was  all  that  could  be  desired, 
and  the  activity  of  the  child's  spiritual  na- 
ture strengthened  his  moral  courage ;  and 
was  a  general  uplifting  of  his  whole  na- 
ture towards  the  higher  and  better. 

It  is  not  enough  that  we  cultivate  the 

ii6 


ESSAYS 

intellect  alone,  for  we  have  abundant  evi- 
dence that  there  may  be  the  finest  culture 
and  a  cold,  hard,  barren  spiritual  nature. 
The  brilliant  men  and  women  of  the  Ital- 
ian Renaissance  furnish  some  of  the  most 
striking  illustrations  of  this,  and  our  nine- 
teenth century  renaissance  resembles  the 
spirit  of  that  remarkable  period.  There 
is  the  same  spirit  of  egoism,  of  worship 
of  the  antique,  love  of  luxury,  love  of 
learning,  and  also  love  of  display.  These 
are  all  characteristic  of  both  the  past  and 
present  times.  The  cultivation  of  the  in- 
tellect alone  is  often  a  mere  delightful 
pastime,  a  mental  and  emotional  excite- 
ment, which  is  purely  aesthetic,  and  may 
be  a  most  selfish  act.  We  have  learned 
that  neither  statuesque  beauty  nor  culti- 
vated intellect  can  take  the  place  of  that 
interior  attitude  of  the  mind  which  in- 
cludes both  the  "good  of  the  intellect"  and 
that  supreme  beatitude  of  spirit  which 
"rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  hopeth  all 
things,  endureth  all  things."  But  in  our 
day  there  is  an  element  which  acts  as  a 
restraining  power,  even  though  uncon- 
sciously.    We  are  direct  heirs  of  those 

117 


ESSAYS 

principles  of  Puritanism  which  made  and 
molded  our  grandsires,  and  we  cannot 
lightly  throw  off  our  birthright.  There  is 
with  us  a  moral  hurt  for  wrong-doing,  an 
underlying  protest  from  this  puritanic 
spirit,  like  the  still,  small  voice  to  those 
grand  men  who  made  the  love  and  worship 
of  God  the  first  duty  and  pleasure  of  life. 
Therefore,  let  us  not  discourage  prayer, 
but  rather  cultivate  this  highest  language 
of  the  soul,  and  strive  to  make  the  prayer- 
ful attitude  habitual,  an  ever-present  fac- 
tor in  our  lives,  as  the  rational  man  makes 
his  reason  the  arbiter  of  all  vexed  ques- 
tions. This  will  be  an  equipment  with 
which  to  do  glorious  battle-work  in  the 
world.  For,  take  life  on  whatever  basis 
you  may,  there  are  stern,  warlike  elements 
in  it  which  never  will  and  never  can  be 
eliminated,  and  the  success  or  failure  of 
life  will  largely  depend  upon  the  choice  of 
weapons  he  shall  select  with  which  to  fight 
life's  battles.  And  if  we  would  keep  in 
the  tide  that  bears  upon  its  bosom  the 
grand  movement  of  the  world-spirit,  we 
must  seek  to  obtain  and  retain  the  prayer- 
ful attitude. 

ii8 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY  CONCEPTION 
OF  HUMANITY 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY  CONCEP- 
TION OF  HUMANITY. 

WHAT  we  may  call  the  Historical 
Perspective  is  now  the  recog- 
nized necessity  for  the  rational 
treatment  of  any  subject.  We  cannot  take 
one  isolated  fact,  or  person,  or  period,  and 
draw  our  conclusions  from  these  alone. 

In  considering  the  Nineteenth  Century 
Conception  of  Humanity,  it  is  necessary 
that  we  take  the  whole  grand  movement 
of  mankind,  the  history  of  the  human  race, 
photograph  it  upon  the  mind  in  a  complete 
picture,  before  we  have  even  a  right  to 
form  an  opinion,  or  pass  judgment  upon 
it.  To  trace  out  in  detail  the  relation  of 
one  event,  or  epoch,  to  another ;  to  ascer- 
tain the  cause,  or  causes,  by  which  certain 
effects  were  produced  would  be  too  tre- 
mendous an  undertaking  for  one  essay. 
But  we  may  indicate  very  briefly  the  line 
of  march  of  the  ideas  which  have  cul- 

121 


ESSAYS 

minated  to-day  in  such  a  glorious  concep- 
tion of  humanity;  in  what  particulars  it 
differs  from  other  times,  and  wherein  it 
is  an  advancement  upon  the  past.  This 
movement,  which  antedates  history,  will  be 
found  to  preserve  throughout  cohesion 
and  unity,  despite  all  apparent  changes 
and  differences ;  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  hap-hazard  work  in  the  growth  of 
man's  moral  perception,  or  the  develop- 
ment of  the  moral  idea.  Looking  down 
through  this  long  historical  perspective, 
we  shall  see  the  present  in  its  true  and 
proper  proportions.  The  history  of  the 
growth  of  the  moral  idea  is  preserved  and 
revealed  to  us  by  the  patient  researches  of 
the  archaeologist,  the  persistent  investiga- 
tion of  scientists,  the  untiring  efforts  of 
scholars  and  the  true  interpretations  of 
mythology  and  history  transmitted  to  us 
through  art  and  song  and  story. 

The  Nineteenth  Century  idea  of  Hu- 
manity is  best  defined  by  the  word  "altru- 
ism," a  word  which  is  used  to  express  the 
great  humanitarian  movement  now  sweep- 
ing over  the  world,  and  to  which  all  classes 
of  writers,  thinkers  and  workers  are  bend- 

122 


ESSAYS 

ing  their  best  efforts.  It  expresses  the 
highest  conception  of  man's  relation  to 
man,  and  contains  the  basic  principle  of 
all  the  different  activities  for  the  ameliora- 
tion of  the  race  under  the  name  of  Social 
Science. 

In  the  consideration  of  our  subject  we 
find  it  necessary,  first,  to  learn  as  nearly 
as  may  be  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  "al- 
truism," or  the  feelings  and  principles 
which  gave  rise  to  it,  following  its  growth 
down  to  the  present  time;  second,  to  seek 
those  causes  which  have  been  most  potent 
in  its  development;  third,  wherein  the 
Nineteenth  Century  Conception  differs 
from  that  of  other  great  historical  peri- 
ods, and  wherein  it  is  an  advancement 
upon  the  past. 

At  the  earliest  period  of  time  of  which 
we  have  any  historic  record,  the  family 
was  already  in  a  somewhat  advanced 
stage.  We  also  find  that  the  idea  of  the 
family  and  religious  ideas  have  developed 
side  by  side.  Indeed,  society  was  at  first 
dependent  upon  and  governed  by  religious 
conceptions.  The  family  life  of  the  an- 
cients  developed   around   their   domestic 

123 


ESSAYS 

Gods,  and  finally  the  state  itself  was  gov- 
erned by  this  paternal  idea.  The  earliest 
races  of  men  could  not  grasp  the  idea  of 
a  Creator,  beyond  the  father  of  the  fam- 
ily, from  whom  they  derived  the  spark  of 
life.  The  tombs  of  their  fathers  were  lo- 
cated near  the  house  to  give  access  for 
frequent  worship.  Their  Gods  therefore 
were  ever  present.  Annual  banquets  or 
feasts  were  held  in  honor  of  these 
''manes,"  as  they  were  called  among  the 
Greeks  and  Romans,  meaning  the  spirits 
of  their  departed  parents.  Sacrifices  were 
constantly  offered  for  propitiation  or  pro- 
tection. ''Marriage  among  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  was  controlled  by  the  same 
principle,  the  continuity  of  the  family,  sur- 
vival, was  the  object  of  most  jealous  care, 
adultery  was  most  impious  because  it 
might  taint  the  very  God-head,  celibacy 
was  forbidden,  the  women  of  the  family 
were  made  subordinate.  The  rights  of 
property  were  fixed  exclusively  in  the  head 
of  the  family,  the  right  of  succession  and 
inheritance  was  controlled  and  almost 
every  act  of  life  was  regulated  by  this 
system.    Every  house  had  its  altar  and  its 

124 


ESSAYS 

altar  fire,  renewed  every  year."  But  as 
population  increased  it  became  apparent 
that  the  family  could  not  take  in  all  in- 
dividuals, so  the  tribe  was  formed,  and 
afterwards  the  curia,  city  and  state,  but 
still  controlled  by  the  family  idea.  This 
paternal  form  of  government  was  finally 
superseded  by  one  based  upon  the  idea  of 
contract,  where  law  and  strict  obedience 
to  its  commands  ruled  domestic  as  well  as 
public  life.  This  contract  society  was  a 
necessity,  as  the  boundaries  of  territory 
widened  and  population  increased.  But 
this  form  of  government  in  its  first  con- 
ception and  practice  was  fraught  with  ex- 
treme severity  and  harshness.  The  Ro- 
man state  grew  and  flourished  by  the  in- 
sistence upon  one  idea,  the  idea  of  hold- 
ing together  the  people  to  fortify  and  en- 
rich the  patricians,  and  developed  the  idea 
of  loyalty  and  obedience  to  the  state  in 
the  highest  degree.  But  this  power,  born 
of  superior  brute  force,  by  territorial  con- 
quest and  slavery,  naturally  became  se- 
vere and  oppressive.  Unlimited  power  in 
the  hands  of  king  or  ruler  not  only  ig- 
nored the   rights   of  the   individual,  but 

125 


ESSAYS 

grew  rapidly  to  absolute  tyranny.  The 
exacting  demands  of  the  state  were  re- 
flected to  the  family,  and  bore  with  es- 
pecial cruelty  upon  women  and  children. 
This  movement  was,  however,  an  effort 
for  justice,  and  finally  brought  about  a 
conflict  between  the  individual  and  the 
state  which,  growing  slowly  and  with 
many  modifications,  has  finally  resulted  in 
the  conception  of  the  freedom  of  the  in- 
dividual, where  men  rule  themselves,  and 
by  protecting  their  own  rights  protect  the 
rights  of  others.  This  idea  of  obedience 
permeated  the  religious  life  for  many  cen- 
turies, until  its  abuse  resulted  in  the  Re- 
formation. 

We  cannot  trace  in  detail  the  great 
epochs  of  history  which  have  successively 
followed  each  other,  or  their  influence  as 
felt  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  time, 
according  to  the  truth  which  such  epoch 
especially  demonstrated. 

We  know  something  of  the  Greek,  Per- 
sian, Egyptian,  Roman,  Indian,  Jewish 
and  Christian  streams  of  civilization  and 
their  co-mingling  in  a  thousand  smaller 
streams  until  their  waters  have  inundated 

126 


ESSAYS 

nearly  all  periods  of  recorded  time  and  all 
traces  of  man,  but  each  had  lifted  human 
life  and  human  endeavor  upon  a  still 
higher  plane.  Though  each  stream  will 
be  found  to  contain  much  that  is  imper- 
fect, it  is  man's  work  in  the  world  to  sift 
the  real  from  the  unreal,  the  true  from 
the  untrue,  and  leave  for  the  next  genera- 
tion the  largest  kernel  of  absolute  truth 
which  we  can  find  and  preserve. 

The  same  principle  holds  true  of  great 
minds  as  of  great  epochs.  Ever  and  anon 
rises  some  master  mind  upon  the  horizon, 
as  Socrates,  Confucius,  Buddah,  Christ 
and  a  long  line  of  Seers,  Prophets,  Saints 
and  Martyrs,  who  give  new  impetus,  new 
life  and  new  energy  to  the  growth  of  the 
moral  idea.  Doubtless  there  will  ever 
arrive,  as  time  and  occasion  are  ripe  for 
them,  others  bearing  new  messages  to  the 
world.  Hence  we  find  that  no  one  mind 
holds  within  itself  the  totality  of  truth. 
These  men  and  these  world-historic  epochs 
will  be  found  to  bear  a  direct  relation  to 
and  interdependence  upon  each  other,  and 
form  a  chain  of  unity,  whose  links  reach 


127 


ESSAYS 

backward  to  the  beginning  of  history  and 
forward  to  the  end  of  time. 

The  poetry  of  history  is  to  follow  the 
rhythmical  movements  of  action  and  re- 
action of  one  civilization  upon  another, 
and  to  find  their  reconciliation  in  the 
knowledge  that  all  are  operating  under 
eternal,  unchanging  and  beneficent  law. 

Among  the  more  immediate  causes 
which  have  led  up  to  the  world-wide  in- 
terest felt  to-day  in  the  betterment  of 
mankind,  none  are  more  potent  than  the 
men  whose  fiery  words  brought  about  that 
stupendous  movement — the  French  Revo- 
lution— and  from  which  dates  so  much  of 
the  Nineteenth  Century  progress.  Rous- 
seau and  his  compatriots  furnished  largely 
the  momentum  which  finds  expression  to- 
day in  the  many  organizations  for  the 
freedom  and  comfort  of  the  masses. 
Whatever  may  be  said  of  these  men  and 
their  measures,  they  created  a  new  gospel, 
and  inaugurated  a  new  idea  of  political 
and  social  life,  based  upon  personal  lib- 
erty. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  we  owe,  in  no 
small  degree,  to  the  Guillotine  the  princi- 

128 


ESSAYS 

pie  of  freedom  which  we  now  enjoy.  ''The 
nature  of  the  Revohition  is  not  affected  by 
the  vices  of  the  revolters ;  for  this  is  purely 
a  moral  force/' 

Great  epochs  of  this  kind  do  not  spring 
up  Minerva-like  in  one  day,  but  are  the 
culmination  of  decades  or  centuries  of 
slow  growth  in  the  direction  of  justice  and 
mercy.  When  Russia  freed  her  serfs  and 
America  emancipated  her  slaves,  it  was 
simply  the  bursting  forth,  volcano-like,  of 
the  hidden  fires  which  had  apparently 
slumbered  for  generations.  It  was  the 
triumph  of  the  moral  idea  over  brute 
force. 

What  we  have  said  in  regard  to  especial 
epochs  and  especial  individuals,  namely, 
that  they  have  a  direct  relation  to  each 
other  and  swell  the  sum  total  toward  the 
moral  idea,  is  also  true  of  all  systems  and 
Utopias  that  have  been  the  dream  of  phi- 
losopher, philanthropist  or  sage  from 
Plato  down.  The  many  distinct  move- 
ments which  are  presented  to  us  to-day  are 
really  but  parts  of  a  grand  whole  and  ap- 
peal to  different  minds  through  their  very 
diversity.     Tolstoi,  in  homespun  clothes, 

129 


ESSAYS 

making  his  own  shoes,  will  appeal  to  many 
who  would  not  be  reached  by  Mill  or  Gun- 
ton.  Others  will  build  air  castles  with 
Bellamy  who  would  not  be  touched  by 
Browning-  or  Emerson.  Another  will  seek 
the  philosophy  of  this  new  renaissance 
through  Kant  or  Hegel. 

The  poetic  mind  seeks  the  meaning  of 
this  unrest,  and  the  reconciliation  through 
the  genius  of  Dante,  Shakespeare  or 
Goethe.  Many  are  striving  to  unravel  the 
mysteries  hidden  in  theosophy  and  psy- 
chology. Statesmen  are  seeking  the  bet- 
terment of  man's  condition  through  the 
revision  of  existing  laws  or  the  making 
of  new  ones.  Each  diverse  opinion  and 
activity  has  its  leaders  and  followers.  This 
is  not  detrimental,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is 
productive  of  the  highest  good. 

One  of  the  most  potent  factors  in  this 
altruistic  movement,  and  one  that  is  pe- 
culiarly our  own,  is  the  revelations  made 
by  modern  science,  because  science  rests 
upon  verifiable  hypotheses.  This  does  not 
imply  that  all  truth  is  verifiable.  But  in 
the  future  the  science  of  psychology  will 
doubtless  reveal  many  laws  the  governing 

130 


ESSAYS 

spirit  of  which  we  know  nothing  of  to-day. 
The  researches  of  the  Christian  Scientists 
and  Psychologists,  though  now  in  a  dan- 
gerously crude  state,  are  groping  towards 
this  end. 

It  is  the  opposite  poles  of  the  battery 
that  bring  forth  the  spark  of  light ;  so  it  is 
through  the  touch  of  opposite  lines  of 
thought  that  truth  will  flash  forth.  This 
will  make  us  tolerant  of  all  efforts  and  re- 
veal to  us  the  unity  of  all  activities. 

Our  Nineteenth  Century  idea  of  human- 
ity is  a  culmination  of  the  moral  idea 
which  we  inherit  from  the  long  past,  and 
its  growth  has  been  in  a  continuous  line 
of  ascent.  We  also  find  it  to  be  in  the  in- 
herent nature  of  things  that  humanity 
should  progress  and  not  retrogress.  If 
at  times  there  has  been  a  seeming  stagna- 
tion, or  even  going  backward,  it  has  been 
a  passing  phase  only,  for  human  nature 
must,  sooner  or  later,  rise  to  the  level  of 
its  source,  which  is  the  infinite. 

In  the  development  of  man's  triune  na- 
ture, the  moral  is  the  last,  as  it  is  the  high- 
est and  slowest  to  ripen  to  perfection.  But 
it  is  an  immense  step  gained  from  the  first 

131 


ESSAYS 

conception  of  duty  in  the  heart  of  primi- 
tive man,  engendered  by  purely  selfish  and 
egotistic  motives  of  perpetuating  himself 
through  lineal  descent,  to  the  lofty  ideals 
that  prevail  to-day,  which  include  all  hu- 
manity in  its  altruistic  consciousness. 

We  now  come  to  the  important  question 
— Wherein  do  our  Nineteenth  Century 
ideas  differ  from  those  of  other  great  his- 
toric periods?  We  find  the  fundamental 
difference  to  lie  in  four  essential  points : 

First,  the  idea  of  God,  or  the  Creator 
of  the  universe. 

Second,  a  truer  conception  of  the  rights 
of  others. 

Third,  the  quickened  sense  of  personal 
responsibility. 

Fourth,  that  this  humanitarian  move- 
ment is  in  favor  of  no  special  religious 
creed,  or  class  of  persons,  or  sex,  but  has 
for  its  object  the  rounded  perfection  of 
every  individual,  and  the  well-being  and 
happiness  of  all  sentient  creatures. 

First,  primitive  man,  as  we  have  seen, 
did  not  and  could  not  have  any  conception 
of  God  or  Deity  such  as  we  mean  when 
using  these  words.     This  is  also  true  of 

132 


ESSAYS 

many  savage  tribes  to-day.  From  the 
Ghosts  of  ancestors,  revered  and  propi- 
tiated, up  through  all  the  various  concep- 
tions which  have  held  sway  over  the  minds 
of  men  from  time  to  time,  being  now  the 
worship  of  wooden  images,  now  certain 
animals,  now  the  forces  of  nature  as  re- 
vealed in  the  changing  phenomena  of 
storm  and  sunshine,  day  and  night;  now 
the  worship  of  many  Gods  and  now  of 
one.  These  different  ideas  brought  down 
to  us  through  sacred  and  profane  history, 
through  the  rise  and  fall  of  states  and  em- 
pires, through  the  birth  and  death  of 
various  civilizations,  through  all  the  beau- 
tiful mythological  disguises,  through  all 
literature  and  art,  until  it  is  finally  re- 
vealed to  us  in  that  marvelously  beautiful 
declaration  which  says — ''God  is  love," 
and  the  highest  service  of  the  soul  is — 
love  to  God  and  love  to  man;  that  this 
love  and  this  service  is  not  in  asceticism, 
nor  exclusion,  but  is  active  and  inclusive. 
Second,  our  conception  of  what  is  due 
to  others  is  clearer  and  broader  than  ever 
before,  and  reaches  deep  enough  and  far 
enough  to  embrace  an  abstract  idea  of 

133 


ESSAYS 

right.  While  it  is  true  that  history  fur- 
nishes many  illustrations  of  individual 
men  and  women  who  have  sacrificed  all 
for  an  abstract  principle,  as  Socrates, 
Savanarola  and  Luther,  we  have  risen  to 
the  conception  of.the  principle  of  universal 
freedom. 

Third,  in  no  other  age  have  the  ideals 
of  men  and  women  attained  to  such 
heights  of  personal  purity  and  personal 
responsibility.  Never  before  have  men 
realized  the  divine  possibilities  inherent  in 
human  nature,  and  never  before  have 
these  possibilities  been  more  ardently 
loved,  more  keenly  felt,  or  more  earnestly 
sought  after. 

Fourth,  our  civilization  is  built,  not 
upon  one  single  idea,  but  has  grown  from 
large  conflicting  parties  in  church  and 
state.  Not  only  in  politics  and  religion  do 
men  differ,  and  labor  for  what  they  con- 
sider the  right  and  true;  but  in  nearly 
every  private  effort,  or  public  organiza- 
tion, the  rights  of  the  individual  are  re- 
spected and  private  opinion  tolerated. 
Thus  one  party  acts  as  a  corrective  and 
restraining  influence  upon  the  other. 

134 


ESSAYS 

The  man  or  party  who  sees  that  regen- 
eration of  the  race  must  come  only  from 
the  betterment  of  man's  physical  environ- 
ment, and  would  direct  all  his  efforts  to- 
wards regulating"  the  hours  of  the  work- 
ingmen,  or  by  giving  them  better  homes, 
or  better  food;  is  balanced  by  the  party 
who  sees  that  man's  spiritual  and^mental 
wants  are  often  keener  and  more  absolute 
than  the  physical.  This  diversity  of  opin- 
ion and  effort  will  counteract  the  tendency 
to  run  to  extremes  and  keep  up  the  equilib- 
rium. These  different  elements,  particu- 
larly the  altruistic,  working  side  by  side 
with  our  immense  material  prosperity,  will 
make  such  a  catastrophe  as  happened  to 
Greece  and  Rome  impossible. 

It  is  apprehended  by  many  that  our 
splendid  achievements  in  material  pros- 
perity, in  mechanics,  in  science  and  the 
fine  arts  will  deaden  our  aspiration  for 
spiritual  things.  But  when  we  consider 
the  immense  gain  to  the  masses  in  phys- 
ical comfort,  in  education,  in  leisure  for 
culture,  in  general  happiness,  as  compared 
with  many  epochs  in  the  past,  we  shall 
see  that  the  average  of  humanity  is  far 

135 


ESSAYS 

happier,  even  if  more  discontented,  and 
more  ambitious  than  at  any  other  time. 
This  is  more  true  of  our  own  beloved 
country  than  elsewhere.  Far  better  is  it 
for  a  nation,  as  well  as  an  individual,  that 
it  has  the  ferment  in  its  blood  of  a  holy 
discontent.  Without  this  no  growth  to 
either  is  possible,  and  stagnation,  disease 
and  death  must  follow. 

Another  factor,  and  one  destined  to  be- 
come of  great  importance  in  the  future, 
is  the  superior  education  and  position  of 
women.  When  we  remember  that  it  is 
not  so  very  long  since  women  have  been 
thought  to  be  without  souls. 

The  early  church,  with  its  magnificent 
structure  of  gorgeous  forms  and  cere- 
monies, employed  woman's  fine  emotions 
to  keep  alive  her  altar  fires.  Woman's 
devotional  nature,  her  keen  mental  wants, 
and  the  finer  passions  of  the  heart  have 
heretofore  found  in  formal  religious  ob- 
servances a  large  field  of  activity.  But 
to-day  woman  is  called  to  a  higher  con- 
secration of  her  powers  than  embroider- 
ing altar  cloths  or  priestly  robes. 

The    exquisite    angel-faced    Madonnas 

136 


ESSAYS 

^'Wrought  in  a  sad  sincerity,"  by  the  ear- 
nest passion  of  the  artist  souls  of  the  past, 
and  whose  deification  of  motherhood  has 
added  not  a  Httle  to  the  growth  of  the 
true  worship  of  woman,  would  seem  to  be 
superseded  to-day  by  the  ''Madonna  of 
the  tubs,"  and  a  holy  zeal  to  rescue  for- 
lorn and  suffering  women  everywhere. 

The  gospel  of  the  divinity  of  human 
nature  comes  with  a  new  revelation,  and 
a  new  hope,  especially  to  woman.  Woman 
now  realizes  that  any  violation  of  her  na- 
ture, mental,  moral  or  physical,  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  law  of  retribution,  for  law 
makes  no  sentimental  discrimination  in 
favor  of  her  sex.  This  larger  position  of 
women  carries  with  it  an  immense  respon- 
sibility, and  its  force  in  our  modern  civi- 
lization is  incalculable.  Goethe,  true  seer 
and  prophet  that  he  was,  realized  what 
this  influence  was  to  be  when  he  used 
those  imperishable  words — "It  is  the 
eternal  womanly  which  is  to  draw  us  on- 
ward." 

The  sacredness  and  the  purity  of  the 
family  is  also  being  more  and  more  con- 
sidered and  insisted  upon.     Despite  the 

^37 


ESSAYS 

discussion  of  Mona  Caird,  E.  Linn  Lin- 
ton and  Grant  Allen,  despite  decadents, 
ego-maniacs  and  degenerates,  it  is  in  all 
essential  features  an  improvement  upon 
what  has  gone  before.  Despite  the  ques- 
tion we  so  often  hear,  ''Is  marriage  a  fail- 
ure?" and  much  we  know  to  exist  that  is 
unhallowed,  we  feel  sure  the  consensus  of 
the  Nineteenth  Century  will  give  a  ring- 
ing negative  reply. 

The  problems  raised  by  Max  Nordau, 
Benjamin  Kid  and  others  will  eventually 
be  answered  to  the  benefit  of  coming  gen- 
erations. 

Another  important  element  is  the  fact 
that  we  do  not  hold  the  blessings  of  cul- 
ture and  education  as  an  especial  privi- 
lege of  any  one  class  or  condition  of  peo- 
ple. We  do  recognize  that  ''life,  liberty 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness"  is  the  right 
of  all  mankind.  Out  of  the  conflict  of 
diverse  opinions  we  may  confidently  hope 
for  the  development  of  systems,  educa- 
tional and  philanthropic,  which  will  be 
particularly  adapted  to  our  present  ideas 
and  necessities.  That  we  possess  the  free- 
dom to  discuss   these   questions   without 

138 


ESSAYS 

fear  of  torture  or  ostracism,  and  of  dem- 
onstrating our  theories  and  methods,  is 
our  especial  privilege. 

Again  we  find  that  a  greater  respect 
for  life  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  this 
Century.  Not  alone  human  life,  but  life 
in  all  its  manifold  forms.  This  is  well  at- 
tested by  the  humane  societies  in  all  large 
cities.  This  is  an  effort  to  create  finer 
sensibilities,  especially  in  the  young,  to- 
wards all  kinds  of  cruelty  and  suffering. 

In  man's  growing  sensitiveness  to  pain, 
we  see  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  true 
culture. 

Through  our  larger  international  com- 
munication we  are  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  sufferings  by  cold  and  hunger  of 
the  Irish  Peasantry;  we  thrill  with  horror 
at  the  torture  practised  upon  Russian 
prisoners;  or  we  are  torn  with  pity  when 
we  read  of  "Prisoners  of  poverty  at  home 
or  abroad'';  or,  when  reading  "In  Dark- 
est England,"  we  feel  that  life  can  hold 
nothing  more  of  sweetness  and  light  for 
us  until  those  three  million  of  souls  are 
rescued  from  perishing  in  the  sea  of  de- 
pravity and  sin.    Being  thus  forced  to  see 

139 


ESSAYS 

and  recognize  these  facts  by  the  changed 
conditions,  externally,  we  are  driven  by 
this  knowledge,  and  the  finer  impulses 
from  within,  to  make  an  effort  for  the 
relief  of  suffering  humanity  everywhere. 
Intellectual  culture  alone  will  not  give 
us  this  delicate  sensitiveness,  for  we 
read  that  the  highly  cultured  Leo  X. 
shot  condemned  criminals  for  his  own 
amusement  in  the  yard  of  the  Vatican. 
*'Only  when  intellect  has  been  wedded  to 
unselfish  love  the  ideal  man  will  have 
appeared." 

The  scientific  probing  knife  of  Dr.  Nor- 
dau  has  revealed  to  us  many  of  the  causes 
of  the  mental,  moral  and  physical  diseases 
of  our  century.  But  even  this  all  too  pes- 
simistic and  fanatical  writer  has  at  the 
last  this  hopeful  word  to  say  of  the  fu- 
ture of  mankind:  "Humanity  is  not 
senile.  It  is  still  young,  and  a  moment 
of  over-exertion  is  not  fatal  to  youth;  it 
can  recover  itself.  Humanity  resembles 
a  vast  torrent  of  lava  which  rushes  broad 
and  deep  from  the  crater  of  a  volcano  in 
constant  activity.  The  outer  crust  cracks 
into  cold,  vitrified  scoria,  but  under  this 

140 


ESSAYS 

the  mass  flows,  rapidly  and  evenly,  in 
living  incandescence/* 

Our  own  philosopher,  Emerson,  says, 
'We  think  our  civilization  at  its  meridian, 
but  we  are  only  at  the  cock-crowing  and 
the  morning  star." 

The  moral  or  altruistic  sentiment  has 
the  force  and  persistency  of  eternal  law 
in  it.  Blunted,  disfigured,  dragged 
through  fire  and  blood,  it  survives  all 
changes,  all  wars,  all  discussions.  Wheth- 
er we  see  this  truth  through  the  eyes  of 
philosophers,  who  tell  us  that  duty  or  the 
''moral  imperative''  lies  inherent  in  the 
soul  of  man,  or  whether  we  believe  with 
the  scientists,  that  in  the  evolution  of  life 
it  is  impossible  for  wrong  to  triumph  over 
right,  that  it  is  as  necessary  that  the  hu- 
man soul  should  ultimately  reach  perfec- 
tion as  for  bodies  to  follow  the  law  of 
gravitation,  we  see  that  the  moral  idea 
is  a  positive  entity,  a  real  and  active  force 
in  the  universe.  It  has  worked  its  way 
through  immense  resistance,  resistance 
offered  by  ignorance  and  selfishness.  But 
this  principle,  growing  slowly,  like  the  Al- 
pine Glaciers,  as  it  moves  onward  through 

141 


ESSAYS 

human  nature,  changes  the  moral  senti- 
ments of  humanity.  The  aggregate  of  the 
moral  idea  as  it  has  accumulated  from  age 
to  age  is  stupendous,  and  has  the  force  and 
sanction  of  infinity. 

Fortunately  for  us,  that  we  have  out- 
grown the  morbid  doctrine  so  thoroughly 
taught  and  insisted  upon  by  the  mediaeval 
fathers,  that  our  duty  must  be  dolorous 
and  one  of  rigid  self-sacrifice.  We  have 
learned  that  "pagan  self-assertion  is  one 
of  the  elements  of  true  worth,  as  well  as 
Christian  self-denial."  In  the  future  all 
service  of  humanity  will  be  a  joy,  free, 
spontaneous  and  bountiful,  as  the  lover 
to  his  beloved,  or  the  mother  to  her  child. 

Through  all  evolutional  developments, 
through  all  forms  of  religious  worship, 
through  all  societary  life,  through  all  lit- 
eratures and  art,  and  all  individual  efifort 
nothing  has  been  lost,  but  all  changes, 
whether  volcanic  or  peaceful,  have  tended 
to  the  betterment  of  mankind.  Every 
martyr  that  has  died  in  the  long  past,  by 
fire  or  sword,  has  added  so  much  to  the 
sum  total  of  that  "Spirit  which  makes  for 
righteousness."    The  men  and  women  who 

142 


ESSAYS 

to-day  are  dying  in  Siberian  exile  will  ha- 
sten the  freedom  of  that  great  Empire. 
All  altruistic  activities  now  sweeping  over 
the  hearts  of  mankind  but  swell  the  ag- 
gregate of  this  regenerating  spirit. 

"One  accent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
The  heedless  world  hath  never  lost." 

This  is  what  the  Nineteenth  Century 
Conception  of  Humanity  means,  and  what 
it  is  working  out  with  quickened  pulse  and 
loving  heart-beats. 

Sophocles,  speaking  of  his  great  pre- 
decessor in  the  tragic  art,  said,  "^schylus 
does  what  is  right  without  knowing  it.'' 
H  this  is  true  of  genius,  it  is  also  true  of 
the  highest  conception  of  humanitarian 
efforts.  When  it  has  become  the  daily 
habit  of  the  soul,  we  shall  do  right  with- 
out knowing  it.  Then  will  the  powers  of 
the  earth  and  the  human  mind  ally  them- 
selves with  the  powers  of  God  and  nature 
to  bring  about  that  "Kingdom  on  earth 
which  is  in  Heaven.'' 

"Then  happiness  will  be  at  its  maxi- 
mum, and  the  soul-felt  desires  of  millions 
of  generations  will  be  heard  as  prayers 
and  answered  as  facts.    Love  is  the  high- 

143 


ESSAYS 

est  manifestation  of  mental  life.  The 
mind  through  all  its  developmental  ca- 
reer has  been  reaching  toward  it  and  long- 
ing for  it.  The  elemental  form  of  love  ap- 
pears in  every  pleasure  of  every  kind,  but 
its  highest  manifestation  is  altruistic.'' 


144 


AN  INTERPRETATION  OF  EMERSON'S 
"SPHINX" 


AN  INTERPRETATION  OF  EMER- 
SON'S "SPHINX." 

The  Poem. 

THE  Sphinx  is  drowsy, 
Her  wings  are  furled, 
Her  ear  is  heavy. 
She  broods  on  the  world. — 
''Who'll  tell  me  my  secret 
The  ages  have  kept  ? 
I  awaited  the  seer, 

While  they  slumbered  and  slept; — 

"The  fate  of  the  man-child ; 

The  meaning  of  man; 
Known  fruit  of  the  Unknown; 

Daedalian  plan; 
Out  of  sleeping  a  waking, 

Out  of  waking  a  sleep, 
Life  death  overtaking, 

Deep  underneath  deep. 

147 


ESSAYS 

"Erect  as  a  sunbeam 

Upspringeth  the  palm; 
The  elephant  browses 

Undaunted  and  calm; 
In  beautiful  motion 

The  thrush  plies  his  wings ; 
Kind  leaves  of  his  covert! 

Your  silence  he  sings. 

"The  waves,  unashamed, 

In  difference  sweet, 
Play  glad  with  the  breezes, 

Old  playfellows  meet. 
The  journeying  atoms. 

Primordial  wholes. 
Firmly  draw,  firmly  drive. 

By  their  animate  poles. 

"Sea,  earth,  air,  sound,  silence, 

Plant,  quadruped,  bird. 
By  one  music  enchanted. 

One  deity  stirred, — 
Each  the  other  adorning, 

Accompany  still; 
Night  veileth  the  morning. 

The  vapor  the  hill. 

148 


ESSAYS 

"The  babe  by  its  mother 

Lies  bathed  in  joy ; 
GHde  its  hours  uncounted, — 

The  sun  is  its  toy; 
Shines  the  peace  of  all  being, 

Without  cloud,  in  its  eyes. 
And  the  sum  of  the  world 

In  soft  miniature  lies. 

''But  man  crouches  and  blushes, 

Absconds  and  conceals ; 
He  creepeth  and  peepeth. 

He  palters  and  steals; 
Infirm,  melancholy. 

Jealous  glancing  around. 
An  oaf,  an  accomplice, 

He  poisons  the  ground." 

Out  spoke  the  great  mother. 

Beholding  his  fear; — 
At  the  sound  of  her  accents 

Cold  shuddered  the  sphere; — 
"Who  has  drugged  my  boy's  cup? 

Who  has  mixed  my  boy's  bread? 
Who  with  sadness  and  madness 

Has  turned  my  child's  head?" 

149 


ESSAYS 

I  heard  a  poet  answer 

Aloud  and  cheerfully, 
"Say  on,  sweet  Sphinx!  thy  dirges 

Are  pleasant  songs  to  me. 
Deep  love  lieth  under 

These  pictures  of  time ; 
They  fade  in  the  light  of 

Their  meaning  sublime. 

"The  fiend  that  man  harries 
Is  love  of  the  Best; 
Yawns  the  pit  of  the  Dragon, 
Lit  by  rays  from  the  Blest. 
The  Lethe  of  Nature 

Can't  trance  him  again, 
Whose  soul  sees  the  Perfect, 
Which  his  eyes  seek  in  vain. 

"To  insight  profounder 

Man's  spirit  must  dive; 
His  eye-rolling  orbit 

At  no  goal  will  arrive. 
The  heavens  that  now  draw  him 

With  sweetness  untold, 
Once  found, — for  new  heavens 

He  spurneth  the  old. 

150 


ESSAYS 

'Tride  ruined  the  angels, 

Their  shame  them  restores; 
And  the  joy  that  is  sweetest 

Lurks  in  stings  of  remorse. 
Have  I  a  lover 

Who  is  noble  and  free, — 
I  would  he  were  nobler 

Than  to  love  me. 


a 


ti 


Eterne  alternation 

Now  follows,  now  flies; 
And  under  pain,  pleasure, — 

Under  pleasure,  pain  lies. 
Love  works  at  the  centre, 

Heart-heaving  alway; 
Forth  speed  the  strong  pulses 

To  the  borders  of  day. 

Dull  Sphinx,  Jove  keep  thy  five  wits: 

Thy  sight  is  growing  blear ; 
Rue,  myrrh,  and  cummin  for  the  Sphinx, 

Her  muddy  eyes  to  clear!" — 
The  old  Sphinx  bit  her  thick  lip, — 

Said,  "Who  taught  thee  me  to  name?'* 
I  am  thy  spirit,  yoke-fellow. 

Of  thine  eye  I  am  eyebeam. 


151 


ESSAYS 

"Thou  art  the  unanswered  question ; 

Could'st  see  thy  proper  eye, 
Always  it  asketh,  asketh; 

And  each  answer  is  a  He. 
So  take  thy  quest  through  nature, 

It  through  thousand  natures  ply ; 
Ask  on,  thou  clothed  eternity ; 

Time  is  the  false  reply." 

Up  rose  the  merry  Sphinx, 

And  crouched  no  more  in  stone; 
She  melted  into  purple  cloud. 

She  silvered  in  the  moon ; 
She  spired  into  a  yellow  flame; 

She  flowered  in  blossoms  red; 
She  flowed  into  a  foaming  wave ; 

She  stood  Monadnoc's  head. 

Through  a  thousand  voices 
Spoke  the  universal  dame: 
'Who  telleth  one  of  my  meanings, 
Is  master  of  all  I  am." 

The  Interpretation, 

The  negative  side  of  man's   spirit   as 
represented  by  average  humanity  is  dull, 

152 


ESSAYS 

stupid  and  sleepy  from  ignorance.  His 
"ear  is  heavy"  and  he  ''broods"  because  he 
cannot  comprehend  the  mighty  secrets  of 
the  external  and  internal  world.  He  waits 
through  the  slow  creeping  ages  for  the 
revelation  yet  to  be  made  by  the  Seer  and 
the  Poet.     These  questionings. 

"The  fate  of  the  man-child; 
The  meaning  of  man;" 

have  puzzled  and  kept  the  minds  of  the 
thoughtful  in  unrest,  in  all  ages  of  the 
world ;  and  are,  and  ever  will  be,  the  deep- 
est of  all  questions.  The  commandment 
"Know  thyself"  is  God  implanted,  and  has 
raged  in  the  souls  of  men  always,  with 
more  or  less  of  divine  fervor,  and  is  being 
answered  with  greater  clearness  to-day 
than  ever  before.  Life  with  its  manifold 
activities  man  realizes  is  the  outgrowth  of 
some  unseen  force,  the  result  is  apparent, 
but  the  causes,  and  that  which  lies  still 
farther  back,  the  primal  cause,  he  cannot 
see.  Yet,  by  some  strange,  irresistible 
force,  he  is  ever  impelled  to  seek  after  the 
"unknown."  The  workings  of  the  world 
are  so  mysterious,  so  intricate,  so  laby- 

153 


ESSAYS 

rinthine,  that  to  the  "drowsy''  passive  ones 
it  cannot  but  seem  a  ''DsedaHan  plan,"  not 
only  in  the  material  universe,  but  still 
more  so  in  the  marvelous  complexity  of 
the  human  mind. 

"Out  of  sleeping  a  waking, 
Out  of  waking  a  sleep." 

This  is  the  wonderful  resurrection  psalm, 
sung  through  all  nature  and  in  the  soul's 
immortality.  Each  death  ushers  in  a  new 
birth,  the  mysterious  transformation  and 
transfiguration,  going  on  in  all  life,  where 
"if  we  could  watch  with  eyes  all  seeing, 
we  should  expect  to  watch  those  world- 
systems  themselves  coming  and  going,  like 
the  leaves  upon  our  trees,  like  the  human 
generations,  systems  evolving  and  dis- 
solving in  endless  cycles  of  cosmic  repro- 
duction."   Verily, 

"Life  death  overtaking ; 
Deep  underneath  deep." 

Out  of  decaying  nature  wake  the  springs 
of  budding  life,  and  in  the  sleep  of  the 
body  which  we  call  death,  the  waking  into 
immortal  life.    Even  this  sleep  of  the  body 

1 54 


ESSAYS 

is  only  apparent,  for  when  the  spirit  has 
fled,  nature  begins  her  work  of  resurrec- 
tion at  once,  forming  new  combinations 
of  gases  and  chemical  compounds,  out  of 
which  new  births  will  arise. 

In  external  nature,  and  in  the  lower 
forms  of  animal  life,  all  is  calm,  peaceful 
and  free.  No  unrest,  no  questioning  of 
the  why.  The  happy  birds  sing  gaily, 
speaking  for  the  voiceless,  silent  leaves, 
thus  reciprocating  their  shelter  and  prais- 
ing their  beauty.  Here  all  is  joy  and  glad- 
ness living  out  a  perfect  existence,  obedi- 
ent to  the  laws  which  govern  them,  and 
all  moving  together  harmoniously,  the 
Supreme  over  all,  and  in  all,  and  a  beauti- 
ful interdependence,  as 

**By  one  music  enchanted, 
One  deity  stirred.'' 

"The  journeying  atoms, 
Primordial  wholes. 
Firmly  draw,  firmly  drive, 
By  their  animate  poles." 

Here  is  a  recognition  of  nature's  immut- 
able  laws   revealed   by   modern    science, 

155 


ESSAYS 

where  there  is  neither  wavering  nor  vacil- 
lation. How  articulate  with  power  and 
meaning  is  the  word  "firmly!" 

The  new-born  babe  appears  to  us  a  di- 
rect revelation  and  gift  from  the  Divine. 
Those  calm,  unfathomable  depths  in  its 
eyes  strongly  suggest  a  past  life — "The 
immortality  that  lies  behind  us/'  But  here 
is  the  potential  man,  here 

"The  sum  of  the  world 
In  soft  miniature  lies." 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  beauty  of  this 
expression,  and  the  possibility  it  fore- 
shadows of  man's  high  destiny. 

Man,  by  his  pettiness,  selfishness  and 
passions,  grows  weak  and  infirm.  The 
world  is  not  dismal,  nor  sad,  nor  melan- 
choly, if  he  fills  it  with  purpose,  and  is 
gifted  with  wisdom  and  faith.  It  is  not 
God,  not  nature,  that  has  "poisoned  the 
ground,"  but  man's  own  acts,  the  result 
of  his  perverted  will. 

The  "great  mother,"  speaking  for  all 
mothers,  in  that  agonized  cry  which  is 
wrung  from  the  torn  heart,  when  the  eyes 
of  her  boy  have  lost  "the  peace  of  all 

156 


ESSAYS 

being/*  and  whose  character  has  been 
destroyed  by  a  Hfe  of  sin  and  folly,  gives 
us  in  epitome  the  pathos  of  maternal  love 
and  care.  But  the  poet,  if  he  be  a  true 
poet,  is  seer  and  prophet,  and  can  be 
cheerful,  even  joyous,  because  he  sees 
that 

*'Deep  love  lieth  under" 

all  these  dark  and  despairing  circum- 
stances. He  reaches  out  and  beyond  the 
present  and  the  particular  up  to  the  uni- 
versal, and  there  reads  in  golden  letters 

"The  meaning  sublime." 

But  man  is  not  content  to  sit  idle,  or  drink 
of  the  v^aters  of  Lethe,  because — 

"The  fiend  that  man  harries" 

is  aspiration,  w^hich  v^ill  never  let  him 
sleep.  It  goads  and  pricks  him  on,  keep- 
ing him  forever  in  search  of  the  highest, 
the  "best."  The  "pit  of  the  Dragon," 
which  symbolizes  the  negative  side  of 
man's  nature,  is  ever  open,  yawning, 
ready  to  engulf  the  weak,  faint-hearted, 
passive  souls  "Who  by  not  doing,  not  by 

157 


ESSAYS 

doing,  lost."  But  even  this  dismal  pit  is 
illumined  ''by  rays  from  the  Blest/' 
These  rays  were  intended  primarily  to 
make  the  pit  visible,  but  they  will  light 
the  way  for  him  who  will  rise  to  the  task 
of  searching,  thinking  and  acting  for 
himself.  Man  is  given  free-will,  and  the 
power  to  choose,  and  if  he  desire  not  to 
fall  into  ''the  pit  of  the  Dragon,''  let  him 
become  self-remedial,  and  a  free  soul, 
through  renunciation  and  reconciliation. 
There  is  no  rest  in  the  finite  for  one 
whose  soul  is  once  filled  with  the  ideal, 
the  perfect.  He  may  not  be  able  to  real- 
ize this  ideal,  it  may  not  be  perceptible  to 
the  senses,  but  he  knows  its  verity,  its 
truth.  This  is  to  him  the  supreme  good. 
Man  must  look  beyond  the  present  and 
his  environment,  else  he  will  be  blind  to 
what  are  the  true  and  the  beautiful. 

"To  insight  profounder 
Man's  spirit  must  dive" 

if  he  would  receive  an  answer  to  his  aspi- 
rations. But  having  found  the  heaven 
of  his  desires  he  will  not  be  contented  to 
soar  no  more,  but  will  press  forward  seek- 

158 


ESSAYS 

ing  "new  heavens"  to  explore.  Thus  the 
spirit  of  activity,  which  is  the  world- 
spirit,  is  kept  alive  and  forever  moving. 
Out  of  evil  there  will  come  good.  Pride 
will  cure  pride,  by  bringing  shame,  which 
will  restore.  Sin  will  react  upon  the  sin- 
ner, and  work  redemption.  The  dual  na- 
ture of  man  makes  all  the  fluctuations  in 
human  life,  ''The  eterne  alternation." 
Pain  is  born  of  pleasure  in  excess,  and 
pleasure  of  pain,  in  the  light  which  brings 
wisdom  and  grace.  Pain  is  the  ''blessed 
Angel,"  and  brings  "the  peace  that  pass- 
eth  understanding"  upon  her  wings.  But 
through  all  the  conflicts, 

"Love  works  at  the  centre" 

and  will  bring  about  the  final  reconcili- 
ation. 


(( 


Have  I  a  lover 

Who  is  noble  and  free? — 
I  would  he  were  nobler 

Than  to  love  me." 

Here  the  poet  rises  beyond  the  beatitude 
of    "Love's    young    dream,"    beyond    all 

159 


ESSAYS 

present  finite  joy,  and  points  to  a  love 
centered  in  the  ideal,  the  eternal. 

The  "dull  Sphinx"  mirrors  man's  own 
stupidity.  Finitude  blinds  his  eyes.  She 
is  indeed  and  in  truth  his  ''spirit,  yoke- 
fellow." Man  here  sees  the  reflex  of  him- 
self. He  is  the  unanswerable  question,  the 
riddle  of  all  time.  If  we  would  solve  the 
problems  of  life,  we  must  seek  to  learn 
the  laws  which  govern  life,  because  law 
is  the  most  direct  revelation  from  the  Di- 
vine. Here  the  Poet  has  given  us  the  key 
which  unlocks  the  secrets  of  the  universe. 
Man  is  clothed  with  immortality,  there- 
fore, the  finite,  the  present  and  the  in- 
dividual will  not  give  us  the  true  answer, 
and  is  a  "lie,"  and  the  present  time,  which 
is  limited,  must  of  necessity  be  a  "false  re- 
ply." We  must  pierce  even  into  eternity, 
with  the  spirit's  eye,  for  the  solution  of 
the  deep  and  holy  mystery  of  life. 

Why  should  the  Sphinx  be  "merry"? 
Because  she  has  at  last  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  true  self.  Man  is  now  revealed, 
has  become  self-conscious.  He  will 
"crouch"  no  more,  but  will  rise  to  his  full 
stature,  the  glorious  heights  of  the  recog- 

i6o 


ESSAYS 

nition  of  his  infinitude  and  immortality. 
He  has  now  found  freedom  through  his 
''profounder"  insight.  This  is  the  su- 
preme beatitude.  This  is  the  joy  that 
saints  and  martyrs  have  striven  to  ex- 
press, when  yielding  up  all,  even  life,  for 
truth's  sake.  This  the  poets  have  essayed 
to  express,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world.  This  is  the  ecstasy,  this  the  true 
elixir  of  life. 

The  creative  force,  the  "universal 
dame,"  speaks  through  all  life  and  moves 
as  truly  in  the  infusorial  animacula  as  in 
the  solar  system,  or  the  soul  of  man. 
When  man  recognizes  this  truth  and  his 
unity  with  God,  then  he  is  ''Master  of  all 
I  am,''  and  the  "drowsy"  Sphinx  will  un- 
furl her  wings,  and  never  again  will  she 
"brood  on  the  world." 

The  poem  could  not  have  been  written 
by  one  who  was  not  in  full  sympathy  with 
the  scientific  as  well  as  the  spiritual  move- 
ment of  our  age.  With  a  poet's  fine  ear 
he  hears  the  deep  questionings  which  are 
borne  on  every  breeze,  and  with  a  poet's 
clear  vision  he  sees  the  spiritual  facts  un- 
derlying  all   phenomena:     "Prove    them 

i6i 


ESSAYS 

facts?  That  they  o'er-pass  my  power  of 
proving,  proves  them  such/' 

The  poem  is  pitched  in  the  highest  key. 
It  is  marvelously  concrete,  considering  its 
scope.  Its  phraseology  is  marked  and  pe- 
cuHar  and  abstruse  until  one  has  found  the 
keynote,  then  it  unfolds  in  wonderful  per- 
fection and  beauty.  It  mirrors  the  sub- 
jective and  objective  world.  We  feel  the 
rhythmical  movement  of  Cosmos  in  it.  It 
grasps  the  macrocosm  and  microcosm, 
and  we  may,  if  we  listen  well,  hear  the 
harmony  of  the  spheres  in  their  eternal 
progress.  To  appreciate  it,  one  must  have 
an  ear  finely  attuned  to  the  world's  har- 
monies and  a  mind  kindled  by  imagina- 
tion. He  must  be  able  to  grasp  the  totality 
of  life  and  carry  it  in  his  soul,  as  one 
grand,  illuminated  picture;  then  the 
*'Sphinx"  will  whisper  her  secret  to  him. 

The  poem  naturally  divides  itself  into 
five  parts.  The  first,  limiting  itself  to  the 
first  two  verses,  gives  us  the  superficial 
view  of  life,  and  must  of  necessity,  from 
its  superficiality,  be  pessimistic;  we  can- 
not catch  even  a  glimpse  of  the  finality. 
But  this  is  only  the  genesis  of  the  poem; 

162 


ESSAYS 

it  will  grow  out  of  this  gloom,  as  it  de- 
velops. 

The  second  part  reveals  the  marvelous 
harmony,  beauty  and  gladness  of  the  ma- 
terial world  and  of  animal  life. 

In  the  third  part,  in  wonderful  conden- 
sity  is  shown  the  negative,  or  ugly,  side 
of  man's  nature.  So  cutting  and  strong 
is  the  description  that  one  shrinks  from  it 
as  from  a  blow.  We  feel  the  old  Hebraic 
scorn  of  the  flesh :  verily,  we  are  "worms 
of  the  dust,"  groveling,  and  ''poisoning'' 
the  ground.  But  the  symphony  now  arises 
in  cheerfulness,  steady,  strong,  assured. 
Under  the  dirges  which  the  Sphinx  sings, 
we  hear  soft  strains  of  spirit-music  of  love 
and  harmony,  which  are  finally  to  reveal 
to  us  the  meaning  of  this  discord.  Pri- 
marily, this  discord  lies  deep  in  the  nature 
of  man,  his  aspiration  striving  against  his 
limitations.  This  begets  conflict,  until  fi- 
nally, 

"His  soul  sees  the  perfect, 
Which  his  eyes  seek  in  vain." 

Now  the  symphony  passes  to  the  oratorio 
and  becomes  recitative,  explanatory  with 

163 


ESSAYS 

the  adagio-con-gravita  movement,  giving 
us  clear  reasoning,  and  answering  our  per- 
sistent why. 

In  the  fourth  movement,  we  are  thrilled 
by  a  grand  song  of  triumph  in  crescendo- 
al-fortissimo,  announcing  that  "Thou  art 
the  unanswered  question."  Thou  art  the 
"clothed  eternity;"  Thou  art  the  immor- 
tal one.  Humanity  here  rises  to  the  level 
of  its  source,  and  the  idea  of  the  Divine- 
human  leads  naturally  and  logically  to  the 
idea  of  immortality.  This  is  the  synthesis 
of  evolution  and  of  thought. 

In  the  fifth  and  final  movement,  the  or- 
chestra bursts  forth  in  a  Giulivissimo  song 
of  free,  joyous  rapture,  man  finds  his 
apotheosis,  and  is 

''Master  of  all  I  am." 


164 


WOMAN'S  WORK  IN  THE  NINE- 
TEENTH CENTURY 


WOMAN'S  WORK  IN  THE  NINE- 
TEENTH CENTURY. 


w 


Part  I. 
The  General  Outlook. 

E  hear  on  every  hand  the  cry, 
this  is  the  age  of  invention,  of 
the  purely  practical,  when  sci- 
ence and  mechanics  are  revolutionizing 
the  methods  of  man's  labor  to  wrest  from 
the  productive  earth  the  comforts  and  ne- 
cessities of  life  with  the  least  possible  out- 
lay of  vital  force.  Simultaneously  we 
hear  the  cry,  this  is  the  age  of  material- 
ism, agnosticism,  unrest,  spiritual  heresy 
and  infidelity;  the  age  of  social  upheav- 
als, of  the  shattering  of  old  ideals,  the 
destruction  of  old  landmarks,  old  idols, 
and  the  disintegration  of  family  life.  This 
is  an  age  when  the  state  and  the  nation 
are  as  unstable  as  the  individual.  The 
monarch  sleeps  uneasily,  fearing  the  as- 
sassin's knife.     Nihilists   and  anarchists 

167 


ESSAYS 

with  brain  and  bomb  are  striving  to  break 
down  all  institutions,  religious,  social  and 
political.  But,  side  by  side  with  telegraph 
and  railroad,  has  grown  a  broader  idea  of 
man's  true  relation  to  man;  a  larger 
knowledge  of  the  rich  resources  of  the 
world,  a  consciousness  of  wonderful 
achievements  in  art,  science  and  literature, 
and  a  spirit  of  noble  emulation,  which 
promises  splendid  results  in  the  future. 
Keeping  pace  with  the  stealthy  move- 
ments of  the  social  revolutionists  has  been 
a  steady  vein  of  growth  and  thought  look- 
ing to  a  higher,  purer  state  of  well  being, 
not  only  for  the  few,  but  for  the  great 
mass  of  mankind.  If  we  read  of  numer- 
ous divorces,  with  all  the  slime  and  filth 
there  revealed,  indicating  the  disintegra- 
tion of  family  life,  do  we  remember  that 
upon  the  opposite  page  may  be  written 
the  lives  of  men  and  women,  whose  fidel- 
ity to  all  the  sacred  relations  of  life  are 
unparalleled  in  history  or  song.  Evil  ap- 
palls a  community  and  crime  is  published 
broadcast,  but  virtue,  being  more  normal, 
seldom  awakens  comment. 

With  the  current  of  doubt  and  unbelief 

1 68 


ESSAYS 

which  threatens  to  inundate  this  fair  age 
Hke  the  waters  of  the  Nile  over  the  Egyp- 
tian sands,  runs  another  current,  strong, 
pure  and  crystal-clear,  acknowledging  in- 
finite wisdom  and  recognizing  the  sun-like 
truths  of  justice,  mercy  and  freedom.  In 
no  age  of  the  world  have  the  ideals  of 
men  and  women  attained  to  such  sublime 
heights  of  personal  purity  and  personal  re- 
sponsibility. Never  before  have  men  real- 
ized the  divine  possibilities  inherent  in 
human  nature,  and  never  before  have 
these  ideals  and  these  possibilities  been 
more  keenly  felt,  more  ardently  loved  and 
more  earnestly  sought  after.  Man  is 
learning  to  analyze,  but  not  wholly  to 
destroy,  to  build  anew  out  of  the  old.  Sci- 
ence is  not  all  analysis,  nor  art  all  synthe- 
sis, for  science  builds  up  as  well  as  tears 
down,  and  art  discriminates,  and  dissects, 
and  gives  us  in  the  higher  forms  only  con- 
crete truths. 

There  is  a  subject  which  lies  at  the  cen- 
ter of  life  and  well  being,  which  on  the 
one  hand  is  related  to  all  that  life  means 
of  peace  and  holiness,  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  source  of  degradation,  sin  and 

169 


ESSAYS 

discord.  But  neither  school  of  scientists 
has  given  exhaustive  attention  to  it; 
Historians  only  touch  upon  it,  Philoso- 
phers merely  glance  at  it,  Poets  have  sung 
only  of  its  sunny  side,  and  Reformers 
have  generally  ''made  the  darkness  more 
visible."  I  mean  the  social  and  domestic 
life  of  men  and  women.  If  my  pen  could 
adequately  portray  this  antithesis,  could 
paint  the  glory  of  the  one  and  the  horrors 
of  the  other,  no  further  argument  would 
be  necessary  to  arouse  mankind  to  give  to 
this  subject  that  close  study  which  is  now 
being  given  to  kindred  subjects. 

In  all  ages  of  the  world  men  and  women 
have  ''heard  the  voice  of  God"  calling 
them  to  a  consecration  of  their  powers  to 
the  services  of  mankind.  To-day  the  word 
is  spoken  emphatically  to  woman.  The 
perfect  type  of  domestic  felicity  can 
scarcely  be  found,  yet  does  not  each  un- 
tainted soul  hold  in  its  innermost  recess  a 
sacred  ideal  of  this  relation?  The  pos- 
session of  this  ideal  is  one  proof  of  its 
possible  fulfillment.  If  we  can  build  up  a 
social  structure  so  that  the  whole  fabric 
stands  complete  in  its  unity  and  perfec- 

170 


ESSAYS 

tion,  and  prove  its  logical  and  spiritual 
reasons  for  being,  we  shall  give  to  the 
world  an  ideal  which  shall  be  to  the  soul 
of  man  as  lasting  an  inspiration  as  the 
Athenian  Parthenon  has  been  to  the  high- 
est art  feeling  for  centuries. 

Our  subject  lies  at  the  root  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  to  evolutional  development  and 
immutable  law,  in  so  far  as  it  has  yet  been 
revealed  to  man,  we  must  look  for  light 
in  the  solution  of  our  problem:  First: 
What  are  the  laws  governing  mind  and 
body  ?  Second :  To  what  extent  does  one 
modify  and  control  the  other?  Third: 
When  conflict  arises,  which  is  inevitable 
from  the  imperfection  of  all  finite  rela- 
tions, shall  expediency  and  emotion  de- 
cide, or  abstract  principle?  Fourth:  To 
what  extent  should  the  fact  of  parentage 
influence  us  in  decisions  touching  this 
question?  Fifth:  What  are  the  laws  gov- 
erning social  development?  Sixth:  What 
are  the  laws  governing  individual  develop- 
ment? Seventh:  What  is  the  relation  of 
the  individual  to  others,  or  the  general 
good?  Eighth:  Woman's  influence  and 
her  especial  duty  to-day  ? 

171 


ESSAYS 

First.  The  law  of  soul  and  body. 
Man's  threefold  nature,  instead  of  an- 
tagonizing, should  be  one  expression  of 
a  perfect  whole.  Man  cannot  live  in  his 
animal  state  alone,  neither  can  he  live 
alone  in  the  intellectual;  neither  in  the 
spiritual.  The  animality  of  the  savage 
represents  the  first;  the  cold  devotee  of 
learning  the  second,  and  the  pale,  unnatu- 
ral ascetic  the  third.  Neither  of  these 
gives  us  the  type  of  a  perfect  rounded 
manhood.  This  triune  nature,  and  how 
to  harmonize  and  unify  it,  and  thereby 
make  man  free,  has  puzzled  even  the 
wise.  No  faculty  is  given  us  for  neglect, 
but  for  use  and  beauty.  History  bears 
out  the  truth  of  this,  for  when  develop- 
ment takes  on  a  purely  one-sided  form, 
nature  revenges  herself  by  sweeping  over 
to  the  opposite  side,  as  is  illustrated  by  the 
violent  recalcitration  from  corruption  and 
folly,  to  cruel  austerity  and  severity. 
From  unquestioning  obedience  to  author- 
ity and  superstition  to  heresy  and  fanatic- 
ism. This  brings  about,  approximately, 
an  equilibrium  and  keeps  up  that  ponder- 
ous   movement    which    we    call    history. 

172 


ESSAYS 

Second.  When  conflict  arises,  principle 
and  not  expediency  and  feeling  must  ever 
determine.  Third.  The  fact  of  parent- 
age is,  or  should  be,  an  eternal  bond.  The 
living  soul  evolved  from  out  the  creative 
forces  in  the  universe,  holding  those  two 
wills  responsible  for  its  being,  is  the  weav- 
ing of  a  chain  whose  growing  links 
stretch  far  into  eternity.  The  soul  created 
to-day  creates  in  the  fulness  of  time  other 
souls,  who  perpetuate  good  or  evil. 
Fourth.  In  the  early  development  of 
races  the  animal  propensities  predominate, 
for  the  perpetuation  of  the  race  and  give 
us  titanic  types  of  men  and  women.  Thus 
the  gluttonous,  drinking  early  Saxon  and 
Norman  has  had  as  necessary  place  in  the 
world  as  the  Hindoo  ascetic.  Each  epoch 
stands  for  some  truth  which  remains  a 
guiding  principle  for  decades  or  centuries, 
until  a  new  movement  arises,  and  all 
things  are  changed.  Thus  each  period  be- 
comes world-historic.  It  is  the  chief  work 
of  mankind  from  age  to  age  to  seek  out, 
keep  alive  and  perpetuate  these  truths. 
This  is  God's  work  in  and  through  man. 
At  some  periods  the  tide  of  civilization 

173 


ESSAYS 

reaches  higher  and  makes  a  larger, 
grander  sweep  than  at  others,  and  in  such 
proportion  will  that  influence  be  felt 
for  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  time. 
How  deep  and  long  is  the  Hebraic  stream. 
How  full  of  beauty  and  perfection  the 
Greek.  How  broad,  prophetic  and  spirit- 
freeing  the  Christian.  All  ethics  must  be 
judged  by  the  light  of  the  age  in  which 
such  ethics  were  the  highest  conception  of 
human  thought  and  action,  for  only  so  can 
we  form  a  just  estimate  of  the  value  of  any 
particular  time.  In  this  way  only  can  we 
get  a  proper  perspective  by  which  to  form 
our  opinion  of  the  present,  as  well  as  the 
past. 

Sixth.  On  the  laws  governing  individ- 
ual development,  John  Stewart  Mill  says : 
"No  one  can  be  a  great  thinker  who  does 
not  recognize  that  as  a  thinker  it  is  his 
first  duty  to  follow  his  intellect  to  what- 
ever conclusion  it  may  lead,''  and  again, 
"In  proportion  to  the  development  of  his 
individuality,  each  person  is  more  valuable 
to  himself  and  is  therefore  more  valuable 
to  others.  There  is  a  greater  fullness  of 
life  about  his  own  existence,  and  where 

174 


ESSAYS 

there  is  more  life  in  the  units  there  is  more 
life  in  the  mass  which  is  composed  of 
them."  The  keynote  of  all  reform  is  the 
perfection  of  individual  character.  Each 
human  being  must  in  and  of  himself,  and 
out  of  such  conditions  and  environments 
as  may  surround  him,  and  out  of  such  ma- 
terial as  hourly  presents  itself,  work  out 
the  problems  which  life  brings  to  him. 
This  is  the  source  of  all  character  mould- 
ing. Goethe  says,  "Let  a  man  learn,  we 
say,  to  figure  himself  without  permanent 
relation;  let  him  seek  consistency  and  se- 
quences not  in  circumstances,  but  in  him- 
self; there  will  he  find  it;  there  let  him 
cherish  and  nourish  it.*'  A  recent  writer 
says,  ''Freedom  for  development  and  ap- 
plication of  pure  moral  impulse  is  now  the 
hunger  of  humanity ;  mutual  coercion  and 
suppression  of  this  impulse  is  its  crime." 
When  conflict  arises  between  the  individ- 
ual and  the  rights  of  others,  "The  less 
must  be  sacrificed  to  the  greater,"  the  in- 
dividual to  the  state,  the  state  to  the  na- 
tion. Socrates  gave  his  life  to  the  state, 
to  which  he  owed  allegiance,  because  he 
had  disregarded  the  laws  of  the  state;  he 

175 


ESSAYS 

could  pay  this  deference  to  its  require- 
ments, because  it  did  no  injury  to  his  con- 
science. But  his  opinion  and  reason  he 
would  not  yield;  he  was  true  to  the  voice 
of  God  in  his  own  soul.  In  the  beautiful 
story  of  Agamemnon's  daughter,  Ephi- 
genia,  this  truth  is  given  us  in  mytholog- 
ical guise,  and  in  reading  mythology  we 
must  remember  that  'Tagan  self-assertion 
is  one  of  the  elements  of  human  worth,  as 
well  as  Christian  self-denial."  There  is 
no  real  antagonism  between  the  right  to 
individual  development  and  the  duty  to 
mankind.  Out  of  the  perfection  of  the 
individual  will  grow  the  perfection  of  the 
race;  in  proportion  to  the  perfection  of 
the  units  will  be  the  perfection  of  the 
whole. 

PART  11. 

For  what  shall  woman  stand  in  this 
civilization?  What  shall  she  do  to  assist 
in  solving  the  great  social  problems  of 
the  day?  As  we  glance  backward  over 
the  mighty  past,  and  hopefully  toward  the 
future,  may  we  not  take  a  comprehensive 
view  and  evolve  from  out  the  truths  of 

176 


ESSAYS 

religion,  mythology,  history,  science  and 
social  and  political  economy  a  code  of 
ethics  that  shall  be  as  a  beacon  light  to  the 
coming  generation  ? 

The  social  organization  is  composed  of 
two  separate  individualities,  man  and 
woman.  For  the  harmonious  development 
of  the  whole  race  each  should  be  cultivated 
to  the  fullest  extent  of  their  capabilities, 
yet  each  may  grow  after  the  manner  of 
its  needs  and  in  no  way  interfere  with  the 
free,  healthful  growth  of  the  other.  To 
make  the  perfect  tree,  the  trunk  follows 
the  law  of  its  nature,  the  leaves  know 
their  own  needs  and  the  roots  reaching 
down  into  the  cool,  damp  ground  find 
there  what  they  require  for  sustenance. 
Each  member  follows  the  law  of  its  own 
being,  yet  all  grow  together  to  form  the 
perfect  whole.  One  imperfect  member 
destroys  the  beauty  and  symmetry  of  the 
tree.  Thus  it  is  in  the  social  body;  free 
play  must  be  allowed  to  all  the  faculties 
of  the  two  members,  and  freedom  to  do 
this  carries  with  it  an  immense  responsi- 
bility, which  must  be  considered. 

In  all  the  higher  forms  of  civilization 

177 


ESSAYS 

woman  has  been  recognized,  to  some  ex- 
tent, as  the  equal  of  man.  "Far  back  in 
the  days  of  the  Vedas  of  India,  and  many 
centuries  later,  when  the  great  Buddhist 
hopes  were  built,  there  we  find  from  the 
poetry  of  the  former  and  the  bas-reliefs 
of  the  latter  women  mixed  freely  and  un- 
veiled at  feasts  and  sacrifices,  and  the  two 
great  Sanscrit  epics,  the  Manhabahharata 
and  the  Ramayana,  with  some  of  the  later 
tragedies,  turn  on  chivalrous  stories 
wherein  women  played  noble  parts  and 
were  nobly  beloved/'  The  Homeric  age 
gives  us  such  noble  examples  of  woman- 
hood as  Penelope  and  Andromache.  The 
heroic  age  of  woman  among  the  Britons 
was  the  age  to  which  Boadicea  belonged. 
So  in  the  Periclean  age  exceptional  wom- 
en discussed  grave  questions  with  wise  and 
great  men.  Sophocles  and  Euripides  wri- 
ting in  classic  Athens  give  us  such  glori- 
ous types  of  womanhood  as  Alcestis  and 
Antigone.  The  heroism  of  the  Roman 
matron  is  a  matter  of  history.  Aggrip- 
pina,  wife  of  Germanicus,  lives  beside  her 
husband,  and  Cloelia's  brave  effort  for 
home  and  freedom  reads  like  a  tale  from 

178 


ESSAYS 

the  Arabian  Nights.  The  Jews  had  their 
Miriam  and  Deborah,  and  a  woman,  Hul- 
da,  was  intrusted  with  the  key  to  the 
''Holy  of  HoHes."  Italy  gives  us  such 
matchless  women  as  Vittoria  Colonna  and 
Margaret  of  Navara.  Our  own  time  fur- 
nishes numberless  instances  of  personal 
valor,  strength,  purity  and  achievement. 
So  all  down  through  the  stream  of  history, 
individual  women  have  risen  who  quick- 
ened the  development  and  helped  to  ripen 
and  perpetuate  the  truth  for  which  their 
especial  epochs  stand.  But  these  are  ex- 
ceptional cases.  The  feeling  of  the  great 
mass  of  mankind  is  doubtless  more  nearly 
voiced  by  Dean  Swift,  who,  when  giving 
an  account  of  a  disaster,  summarized  it  by 
saying:  ''Two  thousand  souls  lost  and 
several  women  and  children."  Our  com- 
placency and  pride  in  our  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury civilization  is  shocked  when  we  read 
in  the  papers  such  items  as  this:  "There 
are  in  India  four  hundred  thousand  wid- 
ows under  eighteen  years  of  age.  Oiie- 
fifth  of  these  are  under  nine  years  of  age. 
The  former  barbarous  custom  of  burning 
these  poor  girl-widows  has  been  abolished. 

179 


ESSAYS 

But  the  inhuman  and  unnatural  custom  of 
perpetual  widowhood  still  holds  sway/' 
Bound  in  the  unyielding  chains  of  ignor- 
ance are  those  bodies  and  souls.  Again 
we  see  the  trail  of  superstition  in  the  old 
idea  that  ''The  Priest  shall  make  atone- 
ment for  you,"  but  you  as  an  individual 
may  not  enter  the  "Holy  of  Holies."  Was 
not  the  cry  of  the  Israelites  in  the  Psalm, 
"My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  when  shall  I 
come  and  appear  before  the  face  of  God," 
a  cry  of  the  heart  to  reach  forth  and  clasp 
the  hand  of  the  eternal,  at  any  time  or 
place,  when  the  soul's  needs  were  felt  most 
keenly.  Woman  must  learn  to  think  and 
act  for  herself,  and  lean  on  none  save 
God  only.  It  is  not  so  much  what  we  be- 
lieve as  what  we  do.  To  be,  and  not  to 
seem  to  be,  is  the  keynote  to  all  true  char- 
acter growth.  Let  the  severity  which  has 
characterized  woman's  obedience  to  au- 
thority in  the  past  stand  as  a  type  of  the 
severity  with  which,  as  a  rational  human 
being,  she  will  hold  herself  responsible  for 
all  inward  thought  or  outward  act.  The 
church  has  ever  employed  woman's  fine 
emotions  to  keep  alive  her  altar  fires.  Her 

1 80 


ESSAYS 

devotional  nature,  her  keen  mental  wants, 
and  the  finer  passions  of  the  heart  have 
heretofore  found  in  religious  observances 
a  large  field  of  activity.  But  to-day  wom- 
en are  called  to  a  higher  consecration  of 
their  powers  than  embroidering  altar 
cloths  and  priestly  robes.  Yet  let  us  never 
forget  what  the  Church  has  done  for  the 
conservation  of  art  and  literature,  and 
that  all  this  has  meant  and  still  means 
spiritual  and  mental  growth. 

The  true  conception  of  woman's  work 
in  the  world,  her  duties,  privileges  and  re- 
sponsibilities, is  yet  to  be  conceived  in  the 
brain  of  some  seer,  to  be  given  to  the 
world  by  some  noble  teacher,  and  finally 
to  be  lived  and  proved  by  generations,  be- 
fore it  can  become  a  vitalizing,  regenerat- 
ing power.  While  a  few  minds  have  rec- 
ognized this  truth,  and  a  few  women  have 
distinguished  themselves  sufficiently  to 
keep  the  truth  alive,  this  is  only  the  his- 
torical few,  the  ''Saving  Remnant."  The 
most  of  womankind  do  not  fully  realize 
their  powers  or  responsibilities.  But 
whenever  the  ideals,  the  leading  minds  of 
a  nation  are  lofty,  the  masses  will  strive 

i8i 


ESSAYS 

toward  these  ideals.  If  a  few  women, 
rarely  gifted,  rarely  endowed  with  moral 
courage,  and  a  philanthropic  spirit,  will 
point  the  way,  time  will  bring  out  the  final 
redemption.  Woman  must  learn  that  any 
violation  of  her  nature,  mental,  moral  or 
physical,  is  followed  by  retribution,  for 
law  makes  no  sentimental  discrimination 
in  favor  of  her  sex.  Law  does  not  even 
take  account  of  motives,  be  that  motive 
ever  so  high  or  holy. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  the  equality 
or  inequality  of  men  and  women.  John 
Stewart  Mill  says :  ''When  Christ  wrought 
out  for  woman  not  a  social  identity,  but  a 
social  equality,  not  a  rivalry  with  the  func- 
tions of  men,  but  an  elevation  of  her  own 
functions,  as  high  as  his,  it  made  the  world 
and  human  life  in  this  respect  also  a  true 
image  of  God."  It  is  often  said  with  bi- 
ting sarcasm  that  women  have  never  writ- 
ten great  histories,  never  written  a  great 
epic  poem,  never  accomplished  a  great 
work  of  art,  never  discovered  anything 
new  in  science,  never  invented  machinery, 
never  proved  themselves  astute  or  gifted 
in  statesmanship.     All  these  accusations 

182 


ESSAYS 

are  but  partly  true  and  have  many  excep- 
tions. But  let  us  remember  they  were  the 
mothers  of  those  accredited  with  all  these 
great  achievements.  We  cannot  say  that 
woman  will  do  her  best  work  in  the  direc- 
tion of  science,  art  or  literature;  time,  the 
revealer  of  all  truth,  will  demonstrate  this 
upon  the  future  pages  of  history.  But  the 
same  causes  which  have  operated  against 
woman's  advancement  or  achievement  in 
the  past  do  not  exist  to-day.  There  are 
few  fields  of  activity  wherein  she  may  not 
spread  her  wings  and  soar  as  high  as  her 
capacity  will  admit.  There  are  remaining 
few  causes  for  complaint.  She  has  only 
to  prove  her  fitness  and  worthiness  to  re- 
ceive in  nearly  all  departments  of  life  full 
recognition  and  appreciation.  The  few 
barriers  which  now  restrict  her  activities 
will  doubtless  soon  be  removed.  But  we 
must  be  patient  as  well  as  persistent,  for 
nature  has  given  us  no  universal  panacea 
warranted  to  cure  quickly  or  suddenly  our 
ills,  whether  they  be  physical  or  social. 
Let  woman  use  her  superior  advantage, 
her  more  carefully  trained  emotions,  her 
better  disciplined  mind,  to  bear  upon  those 

183 


ESSAYS 

problems,  which  by  their  nature  lie  nearer 
to  her  than  to  man.  Let  her  give  long, 
patient  thought  to  the  search  after  those 
laws  which  govern  the  spiritual,  social  and 
domestic  world.  Here  is  the  center  of  her 
work,  fixed  by  the  immutable  laws  of  her 
being.  Whatever  of  light  and  blessing  it 
is  given  her  to  shed  upon  the  world,  its 
purest  rays  must  radiate  from  this  central 
sun.  This  is  in  the  most  direct  line  of  her 
life,  and  she  cannot  escape  the  responsi- 
bilities if  she  would.  The  very  generic 
difference  from  man  may  be  a  divinely  ap- 
pointed means  by  which  she  may  arrive 
at  a  true  conception  of  this  most  complex 
question.  This  is  the  ''eternal  womanly" 
which  is  to  "draw  us  onward."  To  these 
problems  let  her  give  her  best  endeavors, 
her  utmost  efforts  and  the  consecration  of 
a  life,  if  necessary.  Mothers  may  emulate 
the  historic  and  mythic  sacrifices  of  the 
Greek  and  Roman  fathers,  not  as  Ephi- 
genia  or  Virginia;  but  daughters  may  be 
taught  to  sacrifice  enervating  luxury,  ease 
or  even  comfort,  rather  than  sell  them- 
selves for  pleasure,  place  or  power.  Wom- 
en should  not  shrink  from  the  cares  of 

184 


ESSAYS 

maternity,  but  bring  a  greater  consecra- 
tion to  it.  All  reform  is  effective  in  pro- 
portion to  the  amount  of  enthusiasm,  love 
and  consecration  we  take  to  it.  All  the 
knowledge,  refinement,  education,  wis- 
dom and  grace  will  find  a  fitting  niche  in 
the  receptive  mind  of  the  young.  If 
mothers  seek  to  be  companions  to  their 
children,  then  each  day  will  be  a  beautiful 
idyl,  where  wit,  wisdom,  beauty  and  love 
shall  make  the  poem  complete.  In  this 
way  only  can  perfect  unity  exist  between 
parent  and  child.  Woman  must  stand  first 
and  last,  striving  always  to  retain  under 
all  circumstances  her  perfect  equipoise, 
and  ceaselessly  labor  for  a  perfect  indi- 
viduality, strong  yet  flexible. 

She  must  stand  for  absolute  sincerity, 
absolute  purity,  absolute  integrity;  recog- 
nizing her  responsibility  and  rising  to  a 
consciousness  of  the  sacredness  and  beauty 
of  her  functions,  her  duties,  which  are  as 
limitless  as  the  universe  and  as  vast  as 
humanity.  She  must  see  the  trend  of 
events  and  have  some  voice  in  shaping 
their  course.  The  gospel  of  the  divinity 
in  human  nature  comes  with  a  new  revela- 

i8S 


ESSAYS 

tion,  a  new  hope  and  a  new  aim.  How 
could  woman  work,  with  care,  and  joy, 
when  she  beheved  herself  to  be  without  a 
soul?  Women  should  stand  as  one  for 
absolute  fidelity  to  the  ideal  marriage, 
never  debasing  it  for  any  reason  what- 
soever, and  never  assuming  the  relation 
for  any  reason  excepting  the  highest, 
which  is  love.  No  more  should  we  seek 
marriage,  for  any  other  reason  than  the 
highest,  than  we  should  seek  God  for  any 
but  the  highest  motive,  which  is  love.  To 
seek  God  for  fear,  for  hope  of  gain  or  re- 
ward, is  to  the  enlightened  conscience  blas- 
phemous. Equally  so  should  it  be  to  seek 
marriage,  which  is  the  highest  S3^mbol  of 
our  unity  with  the  Creator,  and  was  often 
SO  used  by  the  Nazarene  teacher.  Abso- 
lute personal  purity  has  never  attained 
universality,  though  the  ideal  has  been 
accepted  and  realized  in  many  individual 
lives,  thus  keeping  alive  the  spark  which 
shall  kindle  to  purify  the  whole  human 
family.  A  Utopian  dream,  perhaps,  but 
not  impossible.  The  Vestal  virgins  of 
Rome  furnished  an  example  of  genera- 
tions of  chaste  women,  for  it  is  recorded 

1 86 


ESSAYS 

that  in  one  thousand  years  only  eighteen 
cases  of  unchastity  occurred.  This  can  be 
made  possible  only  by  the  slow  process  of 
a  proper  education  of  the  young,  in  the 
principle  underlying  their  nature,  empha- 
sized in  the  family  and  insisted  upon  by 
the  state.  The  time  is  full  ripe  for  noble 
work  to  be  done.  A  glance  at  the  family 
life  in  our  large  cities,  the  abnormal  life 
of  most  of  our  young  women,  and  the  cor- 
rupt lives  of  young  men,  show  a  tendency 
to  drift  into  a  vortex  of  immorality. 
Much  of  this  tendency  is  due  to  the  change 
and  unrest  of  the  age,  and  the  great  pros- 
perity and  rapid  growth  of  a  new  country, 
two  causes  most  fruitful  of  evil,  unless  a 
counter  current  shall  set  in  which  will 
purify  the  stream  and  modify  its  course. 
Eventually,  in  the  pendulous  movement  of 
the  world's  growth,  the  needle  of  the  com- 
pass will  point  to  the  marriage  of  one 
man  with  one  woman,  or  a  pure  single  life. 
The  dawn  of  this  coming  era  began  far 
back  in  the  ages,  antedating  Christianity, 
where  the  Hindoo  poet,  with  divine  in- 
sight, speaks  from  the  voice  of  the  In- 
dian   Maiden,     Savitri,    these    beautiful 

187 


ESSAYS 

words,  when  asked  to  choose  a  lover  the 
second  time:  ''Once  falls  a  heritage,  once 
a  maiden  yields  her  maidenhood,  once  doth 
a  father  say  choose,  I  abide  thy  choice. 
These  three  things  done  are  done  forever. 
Be  my  prince  to  live  a  year,  or  many 
years ;  be  he  as  great  as  Norada  hath  said, 
or  less  than  this,  once  I  have  chosen  him, 
I  choose  not  twice.''  Let  this  truth,  hav- 
ing traveled  down  the  centuries,  become 
crystalized  in  the  most  gracious  age.  Let 
the  dawn  brighten  into  day,  and  in  the 
splendor  of  this  principle  the  high  thought 
of  the  Oriental  poet  shall  clasp  hands  with 
the  best  modern  thought,  forming  a  circle 
which  sooner  or  later  will  embrace  the 
whole  world. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  much  of 
the  greatest  of  the  world's  work  has  been 
done  in  solitude  and  celibacy,  and  that 
character  can  be,  and  is,  developed  into 
rounded  perfection  outside  of  this  rela- 
tion. Here  the  law  of  conservation  of 
force  applies,  as  elsewhere.  This  con- 
verging of  many  rays  of  light  in  this  cen- 
tury promises  a  solution  to  many  vexed 
questions.     First,  because  we  are  "Heirs 

1 88 


ESSAYS 

of  all  the  Ages,"  and  are  beginning-  to 
learn  how  best  to  use  our  inheritance ;  and, 
second,  because  we  are  living  under  the 
noon-day  sun  of  a  free,  ripening  civiliza- 
tion, whose  most  penetrating  ray  touched 
the  world  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  and 
whose  refulgent  beams  shine  upon  us  with 
reflected  glory  as  we  move  on  from  the 
past  to  the  future. 

We  find  that  for  a  comprehensive  un- 
derstanding of  woman's  work  in  the  Nine- 
teenth Century  it  is  necessary :  First,  that 
she  should  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  atmosphere  and  movements  of  the  age 
in  which  she  lives ;  also  the  relation  of  the 
past  to  the  present,  and  its  true  value,  as 
giving  that  large  perspective  by  which 
alone  we  can  adequately  measure  the  needs 
and  importance  of  her  work  to-day.  Sec- 
ond, her  right  to  individual  culture  and 
freedom  to  follow  out  the  highest  convic- 
tions of  reason,  subject  only  to  another 
law,  equally  sacred,  which  respects  the 
rights  of  others  to  do  the  same.  Third, 
her  exact  relation  to  society,  wherein  the 
individual  should,  or  should  not,  be  sac- 
rificed to  the  general  good.     Fourth,  the 

189 


ESSAYS 

fact  of  parentage  involves  the  whole  char- 
acter, and  is  the  cause  of  the  deepest 
tragedies  of  life,  and  calls  loudly  for  a 
more  serious  consideration  and  readjust- 
ment of  laws,  social  and  legal.  Fifth, 
when  conflict  arises  between  soul  and 
body,  or  reason  and  feeling,  reason  must 
decide,  for  feeling  is  only  transitory,  while 
reason  is  abiding  and  gives  strength  and 
self-determination.  Sixth,  woman's  work 
is  largely  determined  by  immutable  law, 
and  her  labors  are  inside  of  this  law,  and 
not  outside  of  it;  the  field  is  as  boundless 
as  space,  and  as  infinite  as  the  soul;  she 
is  especially  called  upon  to-day  to  conse- 
crate anew  her  powers  to  the  elevation  of 
mankind  by  making  vital  the  principles  of 
purity,  justice,  freedom  and  equality. 


190 


THRENODY 


THRENODY. 

THE  poet  is  above  all  others  the  man 
of  spirit,  the  medium  through 
which  the  divine  will  and  law  is 
revealed  to  us.  We  hear  much  of  Emer- 
son, the  philosopher — rarely  of  Emerson, 
the  poet.  Yet  I  would  give  the  Concord 
Seer  a  place  among  the  laurel-crowned. 

By  prose  and  poetry  Emerson  has  es- 
sayed to  answer  the  yearnings  for  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen,  by  a  glorious 
faith  and  sublime  assurance  of  the  har- 
mony of  the  Universe.  This  is  the  legacy 
he  has  bequeathed  to  us,  a  legacy  large, 
bountiful,  beneficent.  In  Emerson's  Thre- 
nody we  feel  that  the  poet  has  scaled  the 
heights  of  joy,  drunk  deep  of  the  cup  of 
sorrow,  soared  above  the  height  of  des- 
pair, into  the  clear  white  light  of  spiritual 
insight.  This  poem  represents  an  intelli- 
gent, open-eyed,  conscious  acquiescence  in 
the  eternal  order  of  the  World; — not  a 
blind  "submission''  to  the  will  of  merciless 
Jehovah. 

193 


ESSAYS 

The  poem  may  be  divided  into  four 
parts.  The  first  one  hundred  and  fifty  or 
two  hundred  Hnes  give  us  the  agony  of  the 
first  shock  of  the  bereaved  heart;  the 
mourn  for  the  beloved.  "Lost,  Lost,"  is 
the  refrain.  In  the  first  v^ild  pang  of 
grief,  nature's  bright  joyousness  seems  a 
mockery.  The  south  wind  brings  Hfe,  sun- 
shine and  desire ;  but  our  loved  one  nature 
cannot  restore.  In  the  first  black  hours 
how  we  miss  the  voice  whose  ''silver  war- 
ble" "outvalued  every  pulsing  sound,"  for 
whom  all  beauty,  all  nature  might  well 
exist;  because  he,  the  boy  soul,  is  more 
precious  than  all,  he  is  the  perfect  flower 
of  nature.  The  creative  forces  still  con- 
tinue ;  "the  trees  repair  their  boughs,"  but 
the  form  we  love  may  not  again  be  re-in- 
carnated. The  wail  he  has  "disappeared," 
nature's  "Deep  eye"  "cannot  find  him,"  the 
soul  cannot  be  re-clothed  at  our  will  or  in- 
sistence. What  then  is  left  to  us  ?  Where 
find  restitution  for  this  grievous  loss?  Has 
our  philosopher  nothing  to  offer?  Noth- 
ing to  assuage  the  world,  the  severest  na- 
ture inflicts,  when  she  robs  us  of  our  un- 
tainted  youth?      Our   Seer    says: — "My 

194 


ESSAYS 

hopes  pursue,  they  cannot  bind  him." 
Whither  pursue?  To  future  Hfe,  to  fu- 
ture joy?  But  the  human  heart  returns 
again  and  again  to  the  lament.  Nature 
taunts  our  pain  by  the  return  of  "young 
pines"  and  building  birches,  "but  finds  not 
the  budding  man."  Then  comes  the  cry  of 
the  intellect  as  well  as  of  the  heart, 
"whither  now  my  truant  wise  and  sweet?" 
And  quickly  follows  the  self-accusing 
question,  how  have  I  forfeited  the  right 
"thy  steps  to  watch?"  Then  the  question 
of  the  hungry,  jealous  heart,  "hast  thou 
forgot  me  in  a  new  delight?"  Ah!  This 
were  indeed  bitter  pain,  to  be  "so  soon  for- 
got?" The  heart  returns  to  memory  for 
comfort,  recalls  those  scenes  which  had 
gladdened  the  heart  in  the  happy  days 
gone  by,  "When  every  morn  my  bosom 
glowed  to  watch  the  convoy  on  the  road," 
and  yet  again  the  lament,  "The  brook  into 
the  stream  runs  on,  but  the  deep-eyed  boy 
is  gone." 

In  the  next  forty  lines  we  hear  the  wail 
of  the  broken  heart.  Who  has  not  felt  the 
"needless  glow"  of  all  life  and  sunshine 
during  the  first  hours  of  bereavement? 

I9S 


ESSAYS 

We  ask  again  and  again  ''Why  should 
every  chick  of  every  bird  and  weed  and 
rock-moss  be  preferred."  Why  take  this 
priceless  blossom;  'Tor  flattering  planets 
seemed  to  say,  'This  child  should  ills  of 
ages  stay/  " 

The  writer  touches  every  circle  of  sor- 
row, every  excuse  which  the  aching  soul 
of  man  makes  to  itself  for  its  indulgence 
in  grief.  The  high,  the  wonderful,  the 
rare,  is  entered  as  a  special  plea  why  death 
should  not  lay  his  cruel  hand  upon  this 
fairest  bloom.  But  already  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  that  "Good"  which  may  be 
gathered  from  these  pains. 

"The  eager  Fate  which  carried  three 
Took  the  largest  part  of  me. 
For  this  losing  is  true  dying; 
This  is  lordly  man's  down  lying." 

The  loosening  of  earth  ties,  the  yielding  of 
selfish  will,  and  desire,  to  the  order  of  the 
universe : 

"This  his  slow  but  sure  declining. 
Star  by  star  his  world  resigning." 
196 


ESSAYS 

Still  the  struggle  goes  on,  and  he  asks 
— nay,  even  censures.  Nature,  when  he 
cries : 

*'0  Truth  and  Nature's  costly  lie, 
O  trusted,  broken  prophesy, 

0  richest  fortune,  sourly  crossed. 

Born  for  the  future,  to  the  future  lost." 

But  again  the  deeper  insight  speaks 
*'weepest    thou?"     ^'Worthier   cause   for 
passion  wild,"  "To  be  alone  wilt  thou  be- 
gin when  worlds  of  lovers  hem  thee  in." 

We  are  reminded  that  there  are  other 
loves  and  lovers,  to  whom  we  owe  allegi- 
ance, that  this  tie  does  not  incompass  the 
whole  Universe  of  Love : 

"I  gave  thee  sight, — where  is  it  now? 

1  taught  thy  heart  beyond  the  reach 
Of  ritual,  Bible  or  of  speech. 

Taught  thee  each  private  sign  to  raise, 
Lit  by  the  super-solar  blaze." 

By  this  suffering  the  soul  learns  more 
of  life's  richest  truths  than  may  be  learned 
in  days  of  joy.  It  is  a  mine  of  wealth 
and  revelation.     We  learn  through  this 

197 


ESSAYS 

gift  of  human  love  more  than  may  be 
taught  by  all  books,  all  Bibles.  It  has 
opened  up  new  worlds  which  we  see 
through  the  eyes  of  the  beloved.  Our  gain 
is  far  greater  than  the  loss,  for  the  blessed 
loan  of  love,  the  loss  is  for  the  present,  the 
temporary  only;  the  gain  for  all  time. 
The  gain  is  to  know  that 

''  ^Tis  not  within  the  force  of  Fate 
The  fate  conjoining  to  separate.'' 

This  is  faith,  based  upon  the  rock  of 
nature's  undeviating  laws,  the  immortality 
of  all  things.  This  love  teaches  us  "past 
utterance  and  past  belief,  and  past  the 
blasphemy  of  grief,  the  mysteries  of  Na- 
ture's heart."  Nothing  stronger  has  ever 
been  written  against  useless  grief,  the 
waste  of  tears. 

"And  though  no  Muse  can  these  impart. 
Throb    thine    with    nature's    throbbing 

breast. 
And  all  is  clear,  from  East  to  West." 

No  Muse  can  give  us  truth  with  the 
directness  with  which  it  comes  to  us  from 
the  "throbbing  breast"  of  human  love;  if 

198 


ESSAYS 

wisely  comprehended,  it  gives  us  the  key 
to  the  highest.  Through  the  eye  of  inno- 
cence, purity,  we  learn  to  know  all  that  is 
sweetest  and  best  in  life.  Reproof  follows 
reproof  in  rapid  order,  ringing  stronger, 
louder,  clearer  as  the  mind  gradually  per- 
ceives light  breaking  through  the  dark- 
ness. And  yet  so  tenderly  with  all,  kind 
nature  says,  ''I  come  to  thee  as  to  a 
friend,"  not  with  ''tutor's,''  but  a  "joyful 
eye,"  the  eye  of  love.  For  our  gain  and 
growth  we  may  enjoy  "the  richest  flower- 
ing of  all  art,"  the  divine  incarnated  in  the 
human  form :  Through  this  love  and  this 
loss  we  may  know  "the  riches  of  sweet 
Mary's  son,"  and  the  riches  of  His  sor- 
row and  the  world's  sorrow,  and  the 
world's  joy.  But  life  must  go  on,  in  spite 
of  all  changes  in  our  small  personal  at- 
mosphere :  "hi^h  omens  ask  diviner  guess" 
'^And  know  my  higher  gifts  unbind  the 
zone  that  girds  the  incarnate  mind." 

The  higher  gifts.  What  are  they? 
Where  are  they?  They  are  the  glimpses 
of  truth  poured  into  the  mind  through  the 
meeting  of  the  "Incarnate  mind,"  through 
which  alone  the  infinite  is  revealed  to  the 

199 


ESSAYS 

finite.  Here  is  the  superlative  note,  the 
highest  moment  portrayed  by  poets  and 
philosophers.  The  higher  gifts,  per- 
ceived through  life's  joy  and  sorrow,  re- 
lease the  soul  from  the  close-clinging  ten- 
acity to  this  life  and  unbind  the  crust  that 
wraps  the  soul  in  earthliness  and  sets  it 
free. 

"When  the  scanty  shores  are  full 

With  thought's  perilous,  whirling  pool, 

When  frail  nature  can  no  more 
Then  the  spirit  strikes  the  hour. 

My  servant,  death,  with  solving  rite 
Pours  finite  into  infinite." 

Death  is  thus  beautifully  clothed  in 
thought  and  word.  This  is  the  incarna- 
tion of  faith  and  trust.  Death  is  God's 
"servant"  and  a  "solving  rite,"  beautiful 
as  the  bursting  chrysalis  into  the  butterfly. 
Then  arises  the  question :  Would  you  have 
it  otherwise?  "Wilt  thou  freeze  Love's 
tidal  flow?"  Wilt  thou  with  thy  puny 
knowledge  question  the  All-wise?  Wilt 
thou  interrogate  the  "unreplying  fate" 
that  has  never  yet  made  answer  to  these 
agonized  questions  ?    But  we  have  the  ac- 

200 


ESSAYS 

cumulated  and  accumulating  race  history 
to  answer  us,  and  the  consensus  of  the 
billions  and  trillions  of  hopes  and  loves 
and  faiths;  say  in  the  words  of  the  poet 
Seer: 

"What  is  excellent,  as  God  lives,  is  perma- 
nent. 
Hearts  are  dust,  hearts  loves  remain, 
Heart's  love  will  meet  thee  again." 

Lift  your  soul  to  the  level  of  the  infinite 
soul,  then  all  is  clearly  love  and  wisdom. 
The  future  is  not  a  heaven  of  "adamant 
and  gold"  not  "stark  and  cold,"  "but  a 
nest  of  bending  reeds,  aflowering  grass 
and  scented  weeds."  The  soul  yields  to 
love's  decree  as  bends  the  reed  to  the 
breeze  that  nourishes  and  strengthens  it. 
All  individual  sorrow  is  merged  in  the 
universal ;  a  change  of  one  chord  into  that 
of  another,  a  higher.  True,  this  faith  is 
"built  of  tears  and  sacred  flames,"  "and 
virtue  reaching  to  its  aims,"  "built  of  fur- 
therance and  pursuing,"  ^'not  of  spent 
deeds,  but  of  doing." 

Activity  is  ever  the  command  of  nature, 
stagnation,  inertia,  is  as  abhorrent,  as  a 

20 1 


ESSAYS 

vacuum ;  only  by  pursuing  some  high  ob- 
ject in  Hf e  shall  the  spirit  be  renewed,  not 
lingering  over  "spent  deeds"  or  recount- 
ing good  already  accomplished,  but  ever 
pressing  onward,  forward,  uoward,  to  new 
achievements : 

"Silent  rushes  the  swift  Lord 
Through  ruined  systems  still  restored. 

Broad  sowing,  bleak  and  void  to  bless 
Plants  with  worlds  the  wilderness." 

The  infinite  spirit  moves  over  and  al- 
ways through  all  systems,  ruined  or  de- 
caying in  their  form.  From  that  which 
seems  "bleak"  and  "void"  the  creative 
force  "plants  worlds"  of  beauty  in  this 
wilderness  of  apparent  decay  and  ruin, 
and  "watered  with  tears  of  ancient  sor- 
row," "apples  of  Eden,  ripe  to-morrow." 

"House  and  tenement  go  to  ground," 
"Lost  in  God,  in  God-head  found." 

Thus  the  conditioned,  transient  is  found 
in  the  permanent,  the  unconditioned,  the 
universal. 


202 


IMPRACTICABILITY 


IMPRACTIBILITY. 

THERE  is  no  word  more  persist- 
ently and  constantly  misused  and 
misapplied  than  the  word  prac- 
tical. It  is  an  especial  favorite  with  the 
narrow-minded  and  ignorant.  An  ac- 
quaintance said  recently,  speaking  of  one 
of  our  greatest  modern  philosophers,  ''He 
has  a  great  mind,  but  is  so  very  imprac- 
tical." The  fine  scorn  and  air  of  superior- 
ity with  which  this  was  said  was  proof  of 
the  pitying  contempt  in  which  she  held 
this  seer  and  prophet.  It  also  measured 
her  appreciation  of  the  eternal  verities; 
she  scorned  all  theories,  all  isms,  and  saw 
no  deeper  than  to  give  the  needy  their 
daily  bread.  Food  for  the  spirit  she  did 
not  count  among  the  necessaries  of  life. 
Yet  the  history  of  man's  spiritual  life 
shows  us  that  the  hunger  for  truth,  the 
passion  for  righteousness,  the  yearning 

205 


ESSAYS 

of  the  soul  for  God  and  Immortality,  will 
sacrifice  all  material  things,  even  life  it- 
self, to  these  wants.  Novalis  says,  "Phi- 
losophy can  bake  no  bread;  but  she  can 
procure  for  us  God,  freedom  an*^  immor- 
tality." 

The  more  civilized  man  is,  the  more  dif- 
ferentiated, individualized  he  is.  This  dif- 
ferentiation seeks  expression  and  sepa- 
rates itself  from  the  mass.  He  does  not 
let  the  masses  absorb  him,  he  absorbs  the 
masses.  Therefore  the  one  man  is  worth 
a  thousand  other  men;  one  Shakespeare, 
one  Emerson — there  is  no  equivalent  to 
these,  in  numbers.  The  man  of  thought 
cannot  live  a  gregarious  life,  he  seeks  com- 
panion with  the  highest  only.  We  cannot 
live  with  the  stars  if  we  keep  our  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground.  The  man  of  thought 
cannot  be  absorbed  by  surrounding  cir- 
cumstances and  conditions,  but  will  ab- 
sorb them.  He  takes  these  up,  digests 
them,  retaining  what  is  valuable  and  cast- 
ing away  the  husk;  yet  many  live  on  the 
husks  alone  and  think  they  have  lived! 
There  is  no  such  thing  in  Nature,  or  man, 
as  absolute  identity.     Nature  abhors  iden- 

206 


ESSAYS 

tity  as  she  abhors  a  vacuum.  This  gives 
us  the  splendid  diversity  in  human  char- 
acter, and  makes  its  study  forever  the 
deepest  joy  and  the  deepest  pain  of  man- 
kind. 


207 


QUESTIONINa 


QUESTIONING. 

WHAT  if  imagination's  play 
Assumes  thoughts  truer,  clearer 
way, 
And  cheats  our  soul  with  fancy's  dream, 
With  hopes  that  are  not,  only  seem? — 

If  Plato's  philosophic  scheme 
And  Jesus's  teaching  by  the  stream 
Were  but  fine  cerebral  fires, 
Dying  when  man  expires? 

What  if  the  martyrs'  faith  and  hope 
Were  only  passions  broader  scope, 
To  realize  the  general  plan 
And  bridge   the   space   'twixt   God   and 
Man? — 

And  all  the  loves  of  human  hearts 
Not  perfect  wholes,  but  only  parts, 
Of  the  great  universal  whole, 
And  lost  the  individual  soul  ? 

211 


ESSAYS 

Is  song  of  bird  or  tint  of  flower. 
Beauty  to  please  a  passing  hour, 
And  not  to  mould  our  souls  to  know 
Love,  above,  around,  below? 

Only  nature's  sensuous  jest, 

All  the  sunsets  in  the  west? 

In  their  colors'  vieing  glow 

Is  there  nothing  we  may  know? — ^ 

Is  there  never  voice  of  one 
Who  bids  us  look  beyond  the  sun, 
To  Him  on  whom  men  ever  cry, 
When  the  hour  of  travail's  nigh? 

The  worshipper  of  holy  fires 

To  the  same  lofty  heights  aspires, 

As  we,  whose  souls  burn  clear  and  strong, 

To  strengthen  right,  to  weaken  wrong. 

Is  lost  this  vast  resistless  power, 
The  soldier's  calm,  the  prophet's  dower, 
Which  grows  and  grows  from  age  to  age, 
Writ  in  History's  crimsoned  page? 

From  earliest  dawn  of  man's  estate 
To  the  last  soul  who  whispers,  "Wait," 
We  see  through  faith  the  best  word  spoken 
Is  love,  not  power,  but  love  unbroken. 

212 


ESSAYS 

This   word   must   pass    from   tongue   to 

tongue, 
Its  truth  throughout  the  world  be  rung, 
Revealed  through  Science's  open  gate, 
And  souls  divinely  conquering  fate. 

THE   END. 


213 


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